


Even Nobles Cry

by Beryll (Rynthjan)



Series: Malachite Years [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, M/M, Sexual Content, Slavery, Violence, coincidence of soap opera proportions, p2, phoenix empire, please check your disbelief at the door, reference to past abuse, reference to past rape of a minor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-24
Updated: 2012-07-16
Packaged: 2017-11-08 10:28:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 70,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/442212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynthjan/pseuds/Beryll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buying a slave deemed hopeless and saving him from the knackers cart is a spur of the moment decision for Rose van der Meer. Little does she know how much this decision will affect her future life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Starts in the year 5022 of the Phoenix Empire timeline.

Eric had believed that he would rather be dead than go on living the way he was forced to, slaving every day till he thought his back would break, bowing to people he despised. Maybe if he had been born a slave he wouldn't have developed what his various owners had termed stubbornness and arrogance.

But he had been born the son of a Count, firstborn, groomed to inherit titles and responsibilities. Until he had been ten years old, the notion of ever being a slave had been unthinkable. Then the noble House of Andragor had fallen. His father had been killed in battle, he had been sold with his mother. He had witnessed her being raped. He had witnessed her dying, birthing the child of that rape.

Still he had loved his baby half brother with all his heart. He had been the only family left to him and he had protected him as much as he could.

For years he had tried to be a good slave, to swallow his pride and his anger, and mostly he had been successful. Only when his brother had grown from a quick child to a pretty boy, only when his brother had caught the eye of a passing noble, only when he had feared to see a repeat of what had happened to his mother, only then did he snap.

The beating that had earned him he had survived easily. To see his brother raped anyway had broken his heart. To be sold afterwards had broken his will to live.

Or so he had thought. Not caring anymore what his owners did to him he had caused trouble where ever he could. He had been sold and resold and resold again, his owners getting crueler and crueler, the work getting harder and harder till he had been treated like a stupid brute. Still he had fought back, sure that death must be better than this life.

But standing on this wooden stage now he realized that he was at the end of the line. Only one lousy credit separated him from death now. The crowd before the stage was bored, listening only with half an ear to the drone of the auctioneer, telling them Eric's sad history of violent outbursts and trouble making. He wore the scars to match the tale. His naked body dirty and bloodied from his last beating, he was a sorry sight and he knew it.

If none of the people in the crowd bit on him, he would go to the cart waiting next to the stage. The knacker's cart. Two burly guards stood next to it, holding heavy clubs. There already was a pile of slaves on the cart, beaten unconscious with those clubs. The slaves who had failed to get a bit higher then 2 credits.

That was the death waiting for him and against everything Eric had believed, he found himself praying to the lord above. He prayed that he would be bought, that somebody would save him from such a miserable death. Face to face with death he realized that he wanted to live. Only it was quite probable that this realization came too late.

Scanning the crowd he did not find a single face looking at him with even a scrap of interest.

-

Today had been an ugly day. 

Not only had the room service of the tiny hotel she was currently accommodated at been unable to come up with any remotely decent sweets tonight. No, it also had been an awfully hot, humid night as well, and she had slept hardly at all. 

And on top of all things, her assignment had proven to be exceedingly uncooperative. Well, there probably wasn't a single noble in the Known Worlds who would gladly wait for an assassin to finish his job, but this one had been... most obnoxious. 

Giving a deep sigh, Lady Rose of House van der Meer tugged the corner of her veil back behind her ear. For a change, she had found the local dress-code helpful in her work, for on Agrabah, woman were expected to wear a black tchador, a shapeless, many-layered dress that covered basically anything that wasn't already covered by their head-scarf and veil. 

Which made it much easier to conceal weapons than the fashion of wearing extremely shape-hugging outfits, as it was the current 'dernier-crie' on so many worlds, Rose found. 

Still shuddering with the memory of her last victim's entrails on her hands, she decided that she just had to do something pleasant tonight. Anything that would get her thoughts off this vile, old Jehanni noble who had kept a whole bunch of children in his serail. And each of the kids had looked as if she would have done them a favor if she had killed them together with their sick master. 

But the orders she had been given by her family had been most strict. Just the Baron, no one else. And a messy, gruesome death to make a point. 

Rose hated messy murders as much as any professional in her job who was worth a grain of salt, but just as any other professional, she would never even think of not fulfilling a contract to the best of her abilities. Which, even when trying to be modest, were quite impressive. 

Sadly enough, the planet of Agrabah offered very little the young noble would have found relaxing or even remotely pleasant. For except a wonderfully old-fashioned skyline and gorgeous sunsets, if you were a woman, the only place you were welcome here was a place where you were neither heard nor seen. 

So that left her only true vice, sweets. Rose knew she should rather stick with some fruits, or even better some exercise, but right now, she considered her state an emotional emergency and that again allowed for some special treat.

Already feeling much better with the knowledge that she would gorge herself in her lust for chocolate and honey-pickled figs and all the other countless delights the local cuisine would have to offer, she decided to take a short cut that would save her a trip around the whole bazaar area of the town. Turning to her left, she disappeared into a narrow alley that despite its basically nonexistent width apparently was wide enough to host a merry display of beggars, children and other garbage. 

But that alley would lead her to the backyard of the slave-market, and from there it was only a short walk to the 'chubby square', as the center of the local bakeries and confiseries was dubbed. 

And she would need a lot of sweets. This damn noble had even had the audacity to remain most stubborn in death, snapping and ripping at all the inappropriate places, making her already messy job even more unsavory. But contract was contract, after all.

Rose had already made her way through half of the slave-market's backyard as something caught her eye. Standing on the obligatory block, there was a slave, a tall, dark-haired human man, and even though she usually would have never reacted to merely a handsome guy, this one kept her eye. 

There was something... touching in his look, something so undefeated and yet to fearful to his stance that she couldn't help but wonder about his story. She had killed more men than she could count, and none of them had sparked any emotion in her. But this slave was different. 

What was called the backyard was actually an ancient part of the slave-market itself, but rickety with age and neglect. Made up by a single, huge hall, it had once accommodated stalls and shops of all flavor. Now it was filled with cages and junk, sunlight slanting through the precariously deteriorated roof. 

Finding her way between traders and ox-carts, bored customers and slaves that looked at her with blank eyes, she got closer to that special slave for no other reason but her curiosity. There were few people in her life, and if there suddenly an interesting one turned up, that in itself was enough reason to investigate a little further. 

Squeezing through a wall of unwashed male bodies that had gathered in front of the auction block, Rose once again cursed under her breath that she wasn't as tall as other people. It made going unnoticed much easier, but sometimes, that just wasn't what was needed. 

Finally having passed the front row of onlookers, the young noble noticed with a certain shock what kind of slave-auction she was listening to. Called 'the last parade of the hopeless', it was a stock-clearing sale of traders who wanted to get rid of their slaves at any price. 

And there was the knackers' cart standing next to the block, a pile of unconscious bodies already gathered. Despite her profession, it repulsed Rose to think of killing intelligent beings for food or fodder. But then again, money was what made the worlds go round, and the knackers paid two credits for an adult, one for a child, as a time-honored tradition. 

If no one bid more than that for the slaves on auction, they would end up as a treat for some noble's spoiled pet, or as an appetizer for the lions in the arenas. 

Looking up again at the slave who had caught her attention, she suddenly realized that she didn't think this one was due to die already. So often she had dealt death, now she felt almost compelled to save a life for a change. 

And that man looked so... sweet.

-

The auctioneer had come to the end of his little speech with a bored reminder that slaves bought at this auction were not refundable. And still the crowd didn't stir. And why should they, Eric thought with despair, no slave, healthy or not, was worth even a quarter credit if he made trouble. And nobody would believe him now when he said he'd be good.

He was nearly ready to accept his fate when he noted a small figure pushing its way through the crowd to the front row. A woman, by the heavy tchador she was wrapped in. She stopped there, her face turned his way and he could have sworn she was looking at him directly although he couldn't even make out her eyes behind the cloak and veil.

The auctioneer called for a first bid and Eric felt his heart leap painfully when the tiny, black-clad figure resolutely raised an equally tiny hand. Silently he swore to god that he would try to behave, that he would somehow manage to swallow pride and anger in gratitude for another chance at life.

The auctioneer again called for bids.

Eric stared at him in shock. How could he ignore a bid already given. It took him a moment to realize that the man either hadn't noticed the small woman or ignored her on purpose because she was a woman.

Another glance at her showed him that she again had raised her hand, this time even hopping like a nervous little black bird to be better visible.

Again the auctioneer didn't notice her.

Anger set in as Eric realized that he would die because that fucking damned auctioneer needed glasses. Determined not to die over something that ridiculous he turned to the man. "That woman..." he started but immediately was cut short as one of the auction's guards prodded him with his electric stick, jolting him painfully. 

That didn't stop him though as he again saw the woman urgently wave her hand. "She wants to..." he managed to get out this time, before the guard hit him again, this time firmly keeping the shocker in skin contact till Eric crumbled to his knees, groaning in pain. He fought hard to regain his senses while he listened in despair to the auctioneer start the countdown to conclude the auction.

The auctioneer was at two when suddenly a blaster shot rang out. Squinting through the haze of pain, Eric looked over to the petite woman, who now held a blaster in her hand which she had just fired at the ceiling. Debris was raining down on her and the people standing next to her were scrambling to get to safety. She was unmoved as the debris deflected off her energy shield - her extremely expensive looking energy shield.

"I bid three credits." she said loud and clear once a stunned silence had settled over the crowd.

-

Well, the stunned face of the auctioneer almost made good for ignoring her earlier on but only almost so. With grim satisfaction, Rose noted that now the good man had accepted her bid. 

"Anybody else..?", the auctioneer asked with a wavering voice, apparently afraid that Rose would shoot him next if she found anything else not to her liking. "No?"

It seemed as if all the other potential customers shared the auctioneer's opinion about this madly dangerous little woman with a blaster, so it was little wonder there was no one else interested in buying this particular slave. Now even less than before, though there admittedly were a lot more bystanders, all of a sudden, in a safe distance, of course. 

"Sold to the tiny lady", the good man declared finally, waving Rose to come over and pay for her slave. Waiting until she was close enough so their conversation wouldn't be overheard by anybody else, the auctioneer added: "Ma'am, that's an awfully dangerous slave you are buying there. Are you really sure?"

Almost bursting into laughter, Rose held back in the very last moment. Admittedly, the slave was rather huge and pretty athletic, but judging by the built of his muscle, he hadn't done anything else but hard labor for the last decade of his life. 

The young Noble would have bet quite a handsome amount that she was still by far the most dangerous person in the room. But explaining that to the poor auctioneer would have been a little over the top, Rose thought. Especially as she would have had to kill the poor man afterwards. 

So she merely shook her head, taking off the veil so the man at least saw that he wasn't dealing with the average servant girl. 

"I think I can deal with him pretty well on my own, thank you", she replied as she stepped next to the trader to sign the papers. "And if not, I can still shoot him, after all."

Pretty convinced, the auctioneer nodded. "You can make your cross here", the man said, pointing at a blank space at the bottom of the form. 

This time, Rose laughed out loud, a mirthful, silvery sound that echoed eerily in the vast hall of the old market. 

"I prefer to sign properly", she replied, "Thank you."

And with a flourish, she signed her name, complete with all the first names and titles, in the generous swirls that came with her extensive education. It was a personal satisfaction to see the auctioneer pale at the recognition that he was facing a member of one of the five great Houses. 

Bowing deeply, almost shivering with awe, the trader handed her the owner's document. 

"It is an honor to do business with you, High Lady", the auctioneer claimed rather credibly, but Rose's thought were elsewhere already. 

She had just bought a naked slave and had honestly no idea what to do with him.

-

It was definitely not what was expected of him and he had to be careful, but Eric managed to sneak over to where the lady who had just bought him was signing the papers. If the guards hadn't still been in shock, they would have kept a closer eye on him, but as they were still paying more attention to the tiny lady. And even if they had paid more attention to him, they wouldn't have minded as they couldn't possibly know that he was able to read and write quite well. After all, he had had a private tutor before he lost his status. 

Eric was able to see what she signed with. House van der Meer. One of the two Houses that had risen to power after the defeat of House Andragor and House Habichtswald. So she was one of the dangerous assassins and cunning politicians. A dangerous woman. One he would do well not to cross.

But he didn't plan on doing that anyway. He was more than grateful that she had bought him.

He listened as the auctioneer advised her to buy the chains he wore. They bound his hands tightly on his back and connected his ankles, making it hard to walk and impossible to run. She declined with a snort and again he felt gratitude as the guards removed the chains. The skin on his wrists was raw so he refrained from rubbing them to get some blood back into his numb hands.

With a short "Come." she was off, obviously expecting him to follow and he didn't feel like arguing at all. To put some distance between himself and this particular part of the slave-market sounded like a splendid idea.

But as they left the slave market's backyard and came into more civilized quarters he became more and more acutely aware of that fact that he was naked, dirty and bloody as people gave both of them a wide breadth. It was humiliating. But maybe she thought that it was what he deserved and he didn't want to start arguing with her just yet.

-

Alright, she had bought that slave. Three credits wasn't any noteworthy amount, but now she had a slave to care about. And she never before had had a slave, not because out of lack of means, but simply because of lack of time and interest. 

And she should buy him something to wear, something decent, she realized. And a pair of slave-guards, as they were already with the subject. So Rose turned her brisk walk to the better quarters of the slave-market, rather sure she would find what she wanted there. 

It took her some time to notice, but something was odd, something about the people passing around her. For someone like her, being trained to be ignored, having a huge, naked and filthy slave trailing behind you is like... there was no words Rose could have put to it, but it was unnerving to no end. 

Finally, she decided that she had had enough of it, and turned around to face her slave. 

"You", she said, not really sure what she actually wanted to say. "What's your name?"

The tall slave looked at her cautiously, as if every word he said had to be considered carefully. 

"Eric, mistress", he replied finally. 

"I'm Rose." What a silly way to introduce oneself to a slave. Looking the man up and down, she wondered once again what kind of life that slave must have gone through. "What have you been doing before you were sold? Except making trouble, that is?"

"I...", he began, obviously insecure about what Rose might want to hear. "I am skilled at masonry and various other stuff...", he tried to keep on safe ground. 

"Masonry...", she repeated, a little helpless at the information. Heavens, what was she supposed to do with a slave who only knew how to cut stones? Scratching her head underneath the annoying scarf, she finally said: "Whatever. What's those other stuff you were talking about?"

"Working in the field, mining, turning a water wheel..." Apparently thinking very hard to find anything among his skills that his new mistress might find useful, he added after a while: "I know how to take care of weapons..."

Now that was an information Rose's face lit up with hope at. Yet she instantly wondered where a slave could have gathered any knowledge about weapons. So she jumped at the most obvious reason, asking: "You've been a squire or something?"

"No, mistress, I'm a slave", Eric replied with a flat voice, shaking his head. 

"I know what you are, I asked what you were." Wouldn't do to let her slave play witty games with her, not at all. 

Wiping her forehead, Rose suddenly decided that she was fed up with obeying to local customs. Taking off her head-scarf, revealing a huge bundle of luscious brown curls that were neatly wound up in a fine net of golden threats adorned with tiny decorative coins. But it would neither do barking at her slave the very first instance they talked, especially if he didn't trust her with telling the whole story of his life. There were enough dark regions in her past just as well. 

"Sorry. I think we all got our reasons, " she finally said, trying for a conciliatory note. Looking her new slave up and down again, she asked: "Hungry?"

-

Eric wasn't really sure what to make of her comment but her tone was friendly so he decided to give her the benefit of doubt. He felt his stomach grumble and clench painfully at her question. He had not been fed for more than a day. Who would waste food on a slave that was likely going to the knackers?

Careful to sound meek and keeping his gaze to the ground he answered "Yes, mistress."

For a long moment he stared at the ground, wondering what exactly was in store for him now. It couldn't possibly get any worse, could it? And she seemed kinder than any of his previous masters. So he took a gamble.

"Mistress, if I may... thank you... for saving my life." He said, glancing at her face. The words came over his lips only haltingly. To thank a master was not something that was easy. Even if that master deserved it.

Her answer sounded a bit insecure but didn't serve to better his opinion of her. "Never mind. It's not as if you were expensive."

Eric tried hard but he couldn't help drawing a face at that. How nice to be so explicitly reminded how worthless and expendable one was. He probably would better just have kept his mouth shut.

But she did not scold him for his insolent expression. Instead a small, reconciliatory smile appeared on her face which made her severe features light up. Suddenly she looked very young, pretty and quite sweet. She was trying hard to be nice, Eric realized with a slight start, she just wasn't very experienced in how to deal with a slave.

"What about I drop you somewhere you get cleaned and dressed and I go and get us some food in the meantime? I feel like I'm starving as well..."

Get cleaned, get dressed, get fed. That was something he had stopped hoping for a while ago. To be free of the grime that seemed to have seeped into every pore of his body sounded too good to be true. Years ago it would have galled him that he was so grateful for such simple things but right now he was quite willing to swallow his pride. And that definitely included civilized behavior on his part.

"That would be very kind, mistress."

-

"Yeah..." Looking up and down her slave once again, the thought of cleaning him turned more and more appealing to her. She would have bet there was a quite attractive man hidden under all that grime. So turning her steps for a decent slave-shop again, she asked with a slight smirk to her features: "Actually, where do you come from?" 

"Halo", Eric replied briefly. "It's a small planet on the rim."

"I see." She had once been there as well, on one of her many missions, but she had never realized the local populace was so... well built. "And you were a mason?"

"Yes, mistress, that's what I was used for mostly, plus hauling all sorts of heavy stuff."

"Obviously." There was hardly any other way he could have gotten the body he had. With a little training, he might turn into a frightening fighter, but right now, he was only... massive. "I'm of House van der Meer", Rose continued her polite small-talk, citing the official reason of her many trips, "and here on Agrabah on a pilgrimage."

To her surprise, Eric didn't react, and it took her a few seconds to realize that he didn't say anything because he hadn't been asked anything. He truly was trying hard to act the good slave. 

"I travel much, and haven't had any need for staff yet", she continued, leaving unsaid the obvious fact that she didn't need a slave now either. "They said you were a troublemaker, but you look too smart to be merely an obnoxious brute." Suddenly halting in mid-stride, the young Noble turned around on her heel to face Eric, her deep brown eyes blazing with curiosity. "What was it that you were fighting against?"

Obviously considering his answer very carefully, he asked after a short while: "Does my mistress want a polite or a truthful answer?"

Now this was a reply Rose hadn't expected. Her slave proved smarter than most of his kind, and much less subdued than any she had met before. Respectfully considering her reply as well, she finally said: "Usually, I'd always ask for the honest one, but in this case, I am curious to hear both of them."

Now Eric cocked his head, intrigued by his new mistress. She truly acted friendlier than it would have been necessary. "The polite answer is, against being treated unfairly by my owners, though honestly, what fairness is there for any slave? And the truthful answer, against being a slave, I suppose."

His answer was honest, and charming in it's clear assessment of the situation. But just as well, fighting against being a slave was no notion any slave should ever be allowed to have. So a little sharper and more threatening than she had initially intended, Rose remarked with a clear reproach: "I think we both still have to learn how to act according to our status." 

Considering their conversation finished, Rose turned around again, walking the last few steps towards the shop she had been heading for. Once there, she waved to the shopkeeper, making sure he got a good glance at her sigil-ring.

"God bless you, good man, my House is in need of your service", the young Noble said as a greeting, knowing full well that she had just doubled the service she would get and tripled the price. But right now, she didn't care one bit, for never before she had spent any noteworthy amount of money, and why should it rot uselessly on her account? If she couldn't waste it for herself, Rose found, she could at least waste it on her slave.


	2. Chapter 2

As Eric stepped out of the shade of the slave merchant shop he couldn't help but feel good. He was still a slave with no rights whatsoever and an owner who was pretty dangerous and still a mostly unknown enemy.

But being cleaned thoroughly had cheered him up a lot. They had scrubbed off the grime of several years, washed away the dried blood, cut and brushed out his hair, cut his beard down to a decent shape and even cut his fingernails. For the first time in many years he was actually starting to feel like a human being again.

That they had taken care of his various scraps, the wounds where the chains had rubbed his flesh raw on wrists and ankles and the marks of his last beating had helped to improve his mood as well.

He had found it kind of amusing how they treated him with a mix of stern care and fear. Like he was some kind of mad animal that could erupt into violence any minute. He had been as tame as a lamb but still they hadn't relaxed even for a second.

To finish off his makeover they had handed him a simple blue tunic, with a leather belt and a pair of sandals which he had put on gratefully.

Whatever his new owner was planning next, right now he was willing to go quite a long way to stay in her good grace. By saving his life she had already earned some major points, to have him 'renovated' added another few.

And that she had chosen to put old-fashioned slave guards on his wrists instead of a collar around his neck was something he was even more grateful for. For some reason they didn't make him feel as much like a caged animal as the collar would have done. He wasn't wearing the guards yet, though. His wrist had been treated and bandaged and he had been informed that he shouldn't put anything at all on them if he didn't want to lose use of his hands partially or even completely as the infection had been pretty bad already. As if he had any say in the matter.

Just as he had expected, his mistress was waiting for him outside the shop and he noted with more than a little discomfort that he was anxiously waiting for her response to his new and improved exterior. He did not want to crave her approval. He did not want to feel anything beyond respect towards any owner. Still he found himself carefully studying her face from below his lashes to gauge her reaction.

-

Well, finding more than enough sweets for herself to last a week or two had proven frighteningly simple. But faced with the question of what to buy her hunk of a slave to eat, Rose had to admit that she was pretty clueless. 

Meat, she had finally decided, men usually preferred meat. In great amounts. So she had followed her nose until she had found a small stall that offered spiced lamb on small wooden skewers, grilled and sold in pockets of pale flat-bread. Judging by her own appetite, she multiplied it with the perceived size of her slave and decided to buy him three portions at least. Adding a fourth for herself as she noted that the thought of adding something spicy and salty to her until then rather one-dimensional diet for the evening, she managed to pay the vendor without dropping any of the numerous small boxes and bags she was carrying. 

Shopping in this area of the bazaar was truly tempting. 

So when she returned to the slave-shop where she had dropped off the first of today's acquisitions, Rose got informed that her slave was still being 'restored'. Silently shaking her head at the expression, she seized the occasion to walk around the shop a little, munching some roasted and cocoa-coated nuts from a small parcel she had bought. 

Disdainfully looking at the wide variety of collars the shop offered, Rose once again decided that she had been right in ordering good, old-fashioned slave-guards for Eric. Let those Dracons chain their slaves like the pets they call them, she thought somewhat grimly, the mollifying effect of her sweets only slowly kicking in. But I'll treat my slaves like the sentient beings they are, after all. 

Right then, the shop’s owner anxiously informed her that her slave was ready and asked her to have a look and see if she approved of his work. Somewhat amused by the submissive demeanor, Rose followed the man and had to look twice to recognize the slave who was waiting for her. 

In the place of the grimy, beaten slave there was now a definitely handsome and rather athletic man, his brown hair in thick curls, wearing a deep blue tunic. 

"We couldn't put on the slave-guards yet, High Lady", the shop-keeper informed her, almost groveling on the floor. "But his wrists were so badly raw we couldn't put them on without risking more infection..."

"Never mind", the young Noble waved off the poor man's fears with a gesture of her slender hand. Actually, she was rather pleased with the effects of the 'restoration', and by now she was convinced that she had invested those three credits quite well. 

Seeing that Eric looked at her somewhat anxiously from below his lashes, Rose gave him an encouraging smile. There was something oddly familiar in his face she couldn't put a finger to, but then again, she had met many people in the course of her not-so-long life. Only few lived to tell of the encounter, though, and right now the young assassin truly couldn't remember where she might have seen a face familiar to Eric's.

But that would come soon enough. 

So without even blinking, she paid the hilarious prize the shopkeeper charged her, handing the whole bunch of bags and boxes over to Eric. 

"Come", she said, smiling at the way he struggled for a second with the multitude of different containers. "We'll eat at my room. And talk."

\---

Entering the hotel room his new mistress was staying at, Eric's first thought was that it was as small as its occupant. Despite her simple clothing, he had somehow expected she would be staying in a large suite with all the comforts a noble deserved. At least the quality of her equipment and the lack of any worried reaction when she had paid the rather large sum the slave merchant had asked for his 'renovation' had made him think she was rather well off.

Maybe she just didn't value comfort and luxury as much as most nobles Eric had encountered so far. Still, the fact that she had only one small room with a single bed, a wardrobe, a small desk and a chair and an adjoining tiny bathroom was kind of worrying when he considered where he was going to stay.

He had gotten a glimpse of the communal slave quarters this place provided and they were not exactly what he had hoped for. They were not as bad as a lot of places he had been locked up in lately but still he had already started to hope for more with this unusually kind young lady.

Silently he scolded himself not to expect anything but the worst and not to get used to any comforts. It would just mean losing them again would hit him that much harder.

Carefully he deposited the heap of bags and parcels he had been carrying for his mistress on the small desk and then stepped back against the wall so he would not be in the way. Being as close to invisible as possible always was a good way for a slave to stay healthy. Even though that was next to impossible for a man of his bulk in such closed quarters.

-

Somehow, Rose suddenly wondered what to do next. She had planned on a quiet evening, starting with a shower and then tugging herself into bed with a book and the tremendous amounts of sweets she had bought on Chubby Square. Having another person in the same room with her made her acutely aware how little she was used to not being alone. She couldn't just ignore this hulking man she had brought home in a sudden notion of philanthropy.

As she longingly eyed her jar of candied ginger, she remembered the food she had brought home for her new slave. Turning around rather abruptly, she blinked at Eric with unabashed relief. 

"Yes. I - of course." Not really knowing how to put her thoughts into words, she decided to let her actions speak for her and turned around again, unwrapping the four helpings of bread-wrapped meat. Handing three of them to the slave, she said: "Here, for you."

The last portion, she kept for herself, arranging herself and her tchador cross-legged on the bed. Despite the transport, the meat was still warm, and its spicy scent had gained a mellow note of the plain bread it was wrapped in. The young noblewoman swallowed as her mouth started to water in anticipation. She loved food, and even though sweet things were her absolute favorites, spicy things weren't far off. And meat in general. And anything made with cheese or cream. And, well, most other food. 

Chuckling at her own rather simple desires, Rose picked herself an especially crispy piece of meat. Already chewing with deep-felt delight, she noticed her slave still standing in a corner of the room, taking a dainty bite of his meat. 

"I hope it's something you like", the young van der Meer said, taking a hearty bite out of her meal as if to prove her point. Sighing with delight, she added: "I think it's delicious."

-

"Thank you, mistress." Eric said carefully as it seemed a safe thing to say and he had the feeling she expected him to say something. 

She also seemed quite absorbed in her dinner. As she had given no indication of how he was supposed to eat it suddenly was up to him to decide what would probably not aggravate her. It would be impolite to remain standing when she was seated but she had not given him permission to sit either.

Choosing the safest option he remained in his corner and knelt on the floor.

Then he continued eating carefully. It had been a very long time since he had anything even remotely as tasty, fresh and spicy as this. His stomach was growling loudly, urging him to gobble down the food as quickly as possible. But he knew perfectly well what that would result in. So he ate slowly, savoring every bite, giving his stomach time to grow accustomed to real food again. 

This really was a far cry from the grain mush he had lived on for years. Again his new mistress rose another notch in his appreciation. 

-

This was by far one of the best meat-dishes she had bought in a long time, Rose decided, at least counting those she had bought on a street-corner, which were far more than proper for a young Noble of her standing. 

Looking for her slave to see if he was enjoying his food as well, she was a little confused to see Eric kneel on the floor, in the corner where he had been standing. Blinking at the young man, it took her honestly a while to realize that she hadn't offered him any place to sit, nor told him where to go. She really wasn't accustomed to dealing with slaves. 

"Oh - I am...", she spurted, then thought better and thought first about how a proper owner would say this to a slave. He wasn't her guest, Rose reminded herself, he was her property. And giving him the impression of being anything different would only make for painful problems for both of them later on. So, finally, she declared in a very sober tone: "If you want to, sit on the chair. I am not used to other people around me, but my lack of hospitality shouldn't be a reason for you to eat on the floor."

Which, in the end, wasn't still what a proper owner should say, she chided herself silently. Since when did a slave deserve hospitality, and most of all, there was no reason to admit to any failure towards him. Whatever.

Eric in his corner bowed his head obediently and went over to sit on the chair. For a moment, Rose was almost convinced there was the sparkle of suppressed amusement in his eyes, but that probably was only her imagination. 

Turning back to devouring her food, the young noble didn't take her eyes off her slave. What an unusual man, Rose thought. There's far too much independent thought in his eyes for a decent slave, but I fear that's what's making him so interesting to me. Searching for any point where to start a conversation from, she finally remembered his raw wrists, and asked: 

"Have your wounds been treated properly or should I have a look at them?"

"The merchant had his physician look at them and put numbing salve on them, given time they will heal, mistress." 

Numbing salve, my ass, Rose was about to snort but instead managed to stuff her face with food. A plain salve was just the proper thing for a slave. Anything more would only give him ideas and make him think he had any claims to certain standards. 

At least, though he was still eating carefully, Eric looked as if he was enjoying his food, so Rose finally said: 

"Sounds sufficient. If you have any other wounds, or anything gets infected, please tell me before it gets any worse."

"Yes, mistress."

Finishing her last bits of meat, the young assassin wondered probably for the hundredth time this afternoon what she was to do with her new slave. He was strong, sure, and far from ugly, but she didn't really have any need for either of these characteristics. Looking at Eric as if she might find the answer to her questions in his face, Rose finally remembered something about weapons he had said earlier. She could definitely use someone who knew how to take care of her extensive armory. 

"Now tell me how you gained any knowledge with weapons", she said rather abruptly. "If you don't want to, then just explain to me precisely what you know about them."

-

Unbidden memories rose in Eric's mind at that question. Memories of the weapons master who had trained him starting with his fifth birthday. Memories of the dry, sun-filled training yard at his father's estates. How the dust danced in the sun when he went through the motions again and again, his trainer observing and correcting every move. He had always felt honored at receiving such high quality training.

But as with every boy that age there had been times when he had hidden to play and get into mischief instead of attending his lesson.

He had spent many hours since, regretting every single lesson he had missed.

Violently, he shoved those memories back to the treasure trove they had escaped from. To dwell on what he had lost would only mean pain.

Hoping that none of his sadness at what he had once been had shown on his face, he instead considered, what to tell his new mistress.

"I know how to clean and sharpen blades of all kinds," he answered the technical part of her question, "I can care for bows and I can also check and clean slug guns."

That he also knew how to use all of these weapons he did not mention. As well as the fact that he also knew how to use energy weapons and the basics of their repair. His training had been quite thorough. 

-

It wasn't lost to Rose that her slave had chosen to omit the part on where he had gained such skills. It was obvious that he had not been born a slave, and that was why she didn't push him despite that insistent voice in her head nagging about not showing any sign of weakness or leniency towards a slave. 

Also, there was very little doubt that someone with such training would at least have some knowledge on how to use all those weapons. And where there were slug guns, energy weapons were never far away.

"What about energy guns?", Rose asked, adding rapidly: "Shields, both material and energy? Heavy armor? Grenades and general explosives?

"I can repair simple leather armor but no more than that." Licking his finger, Eric finished his food, looking nothing but a tall mason just coming from a back-water planet. 

"What about vehicles?" Now, Rose's curiosity was fully awake, not really going to let him out of this all that easily. "Can you ride some animals? Drive grounded vehicles or flitters? Airplanes, helicopters, hovertanks? What about spacecrafts?"

With the barest hint of amusement, Eric replied: "I can ride a horse and drive a cart, mistress, and I have seen the insides of a slave freighter but that is as far as my knowledge goes."

"Well, that's not a problem in my eyes." 

Not a problem, no, but a good pilot of any kind would have been handy. Rose could kill a man in countless different ways, but even flying a flitter which supposedly was the simplest way of transport on the other side of walking gave her the creeps. But Eric knew something about weapons, and that was something to begin with. 

Finishing her food as well, the young Noble started cleaning herself with a napkin as thoroughly as any cat. Rising to stand next to the desk, she started to unpack an impressive array of weapons, shields and plain stuff out of her tchador. Knowing that Eric in her back was probably gawking his eyes out at this not really appropriate equipment for a young lady made her unusually aware that other noblewomen of her age were usually absorbed with the question of how to catch the perfect husband. The image of herself sitting at her desk, trying different names to see which one would go best with hers almost made her laugh out loud.

Shaking her head, she finally discarded the heavy tchador, revealing the simple black dress she had been wearing underneath. Finally she was feeling like a decent woman again, she thought. 

Turning around to face her slave again, she asked with a barely veiled challenge in her voice: 

"Would you be interested in learning any of these things?"

-

Eric had watched with quiet interest as his new mistress unpacked an armory that would have made a military squad's mouth water.

Pilgrimage, he thought, of course... If she was on a pilgrimage, he was a deep cover agent for the Imperial Intelligence Service.

But he did not comment. Whatever her true occupation was, it promised to be interesting. And interesting sounded a lot better than turning a water wheel in endless circles.

He bowed his head at her question. "I will learn what my mistress tells me to." he said.

A deep frown appeared on his mistress brow. "Stop that!" she snapped. "I asked you a proper question, I expect a proper answer, not that nonsense shell you think to be polite."

Eric instinctively ducked his head. Picking the evasive answer was so much a part of him that he doubted he was still capable of telling a simple truth. With slight disgust at himself he realized that he hadn't even thought about what to say. The answer had come naturally. Maybe he was finally turning into a proper slave after all.

"Oh - wasn't it good?" his mistress asked suddenly.

"Mistress?" Eric asked, confused at her sudden change of tone. 

It took him a moment to realize she was looking at the two portions of meat he had left lying on the desk. Even though he would have loved to devour them as well he was sure that his stomach would have rebelled at so much food at once.

"The food." she explained, looking at him quite upset and suddenly very much a young girl again.

"Oh, no mistress, it was delicious," Eric quickly reassured her, "but I have not eaten much in quite a while and nothing as spicy for years so I'm being easy on my stomach."

-

"Oh. That was thoughtless of me."

Yes, thoughtless it had been indeed. Stopping in the middle of chiding her slave to ask if the food she had bought hadn't been after his liking. Suppressing a deep sigh, she took the two remaining portions of meat. 

It would be a shameful waste to have these delicious things spoil, but of course, it had been far too much for him, if he wasn't used to such food. Far too much. With a tiny, inward smile, Rose admitted that she probably had only hoped to have him gobble down the meat so she wouldn't feel so bad for eating so much herself. But still, that didn't solve her problem with the remaining food. So giving another deep sigh, she opened her second helping, taking a deep, almost vengeful bite. This was just too good. 

"So, honestly now, anything of this interesting to you?", Rose asked after a few more bites.

"I will learn what will best serve your interests, mistress, and should I be able whatever else I can." 

There was such awkward struggle in Eric's voice that she couldn't really mind him. For most years of his life now, he had probably been beaten into submission, and old habits couldn't be overcome within a minute. Though he had a talent for smooth answers that definitely surpassed that of a mere slave by far. 

"Better, but still not the answer to my question", she replied with a softer frown this time. "Where actually have you got such a glib tongue from? Surely not from being a troublemaker on his way to the knackers..."

"I don't know, mistress", Eric replied awkwardly, looking as if biting his tongue. "If it does not please you..."

Oh this slave was horrible, Rose thought with an amused smile despite herself. It was fun to have someone around who wasn't too stupid but not too cocky either.

"Stop! That!", she ordered, throwing a piece of meat after him. "You're too smart to make me believe that crap. I demand honesty, I will not punish you for speaking your mind, especially not as long as I asked for it and we're in private."

Of course, Eric just remained sitting on his chair, letting the tasty projectile hit him without even an attempt of dodging it. And just as naturally, he didn't say a word, as he hadn't been asked a direct question. 

Rose could have laughed out loud. Such a strong person, so aware, and yet so used to forcing himself to act the proper slave that he couldn't stop.

This more and more felt like a personal challenge to the young noble. And Rose loved challenges.

"I could use a slave who knows about weapons", she added, explaining: "But if you want me to keep you any longer then it takes me to get you back to the stall I bought you from, you should learn to suppress your evasion-tactics, however well they might have been beaten into your brains. So I ask you again: Which of the many skills I named would be fun for you to learn?"

-

Just the threat was enough to make Eric lower his gaze to the floor and try to make himself as small as possible. He hated being afraid but there was no denying that the thought of standing on that particular stage again made his heart beat in his throat. And the thought that this time he might stand there because he had for once tried to act the proper slave was cruel irony.

So he answered her question truthfully. "None."

For what use would any of those skills be to him? They would just be a constant reminder of what he could never be.

Probably not really noticing how easily she had cowed him, his mistress took another bite of her food, then chewed thoughtfully. 

"That's not great, but at least it sounded honest." She finally said and smiled at him, pleased with what she obviously considered a victory over his stubbornness. "I wonder how you ended up on that market there today." she mused. "You don't seem like someone who can't behave even if he wants to... I know this wasn't a direct question, and I will not force you, I'm just being curious."

That at least was a question easily answered, and as she seemed to value his truthfulness more than his proper behavior, he spoke after only short pause to consider how to best phrase his reply.

"I guess I did not want to behave, mistress." he said, silently adding, 'because I wanted to die.'

-

"I gathered that much, dear", Rose replied. But apparently, he wasn't about to reveal his reasons for this. 

With a soft sigh, she realized that she had already eaten her second helping of meat. Feeling a little bloated, she looked around for something to drink, noticing the tiny cupboard that held the hotel-room's equally tiny bar. She would have to think of supplying both of them, not only thinking of her own needs, she reminded herself as she took out a bottle of water. After the first sip, she asked Eric: "Anything to drink for you?"

"Please, water, if there is any", he replied with a nod.

"Here." Handing her bottle to the slave, Rose once again wondered what to do with him, as he apparently didn't want to deal with weapons more than necessary. "Maybe you have never thought about it", she asked, "but if you were free to chose - what would your profession be, then?"

Eric took a long moment before he replied, and he looked so unhappy that Rose was only a step away from walking over and hugging him. "I don't know, mistress." 

"I am sorry", she replied with genuine sympathy. "But I am sure we'll find something."

Not knowing what to do with one's life was a terrible thing for sure. With a soft sigh, the young Noble started cleaning up the room, stacking her various weapons in the numerous hidden compartments of her luggage. Only her slug guns, she handed over to Eric together with the appropriate cleaning tools, saying: 

"Here. This is something you can help me with."

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him look at the model carefully before he disassembled the weapon and started cleaning it with something that looked like half-forgotten expertise. Appreciating his work with a silent nod, Rose mentally stated once again that Eric was far too smart and too educated to have been born a slave.   
Finding that the room had nothing more to do for her, she decided that she would keep as close to her original plans for the evening as possible, slave or not, so she announced: 

"I think I'll go have a shower myself now, be so kind and don't leave this room." With a tiny smile, she replied: "I might take this as attempt to flee."

"Of course, mistress", was Eric's polite reply, and Rose couldn't help thinking that he was suppressing a smile of his own. 

Whatever one could say about this slave, having him around was a nice thing, Rose thought while leaving for the shower. And sure, leaving a potentially dangerous slave with a slug gun in her back was what other Nobles would have considered suicidal, but then again, other Nobles usually weren't trained killers either. 

\-----

Eric watched under lowered lashes as his new mistress reemerged from her shower. She had stayed in the tiny bathroom for nearly half an hour, and from the sound of water running all that time Eric concluded that she must have scrubbed herself quite thoroughly.

She was only wrapped in a thick white towel and a lot of her skin was visible - a healthy flush coloring her body. The towel did nothing to conceal her perfectly shaped female curves and Eric realized with discomfort that it had been a long time that he had been with a woman. That she was a lot prettier than any slave girl he had ever tumbled didn't exactly help either.

He had used her absence to finish cleaning her guns. Then he had hung away her tshador into the wardrobe and folded her clothes and put them away as well. At last running out of things to do he had unpacked the assortment of sweets she had bought and neatly stacked them next to her bed as he guessed that would be where she would eat them.

Now he was back on the chair and trying hard to be unobtrusive and control the reactions of his body to her abundant nakedness. Her hair now hung in lush brown curls down her back, looking like it was soft as feathers and Eric could have sworn it would smell sweet as well. Her skin was slightly tanned and smooth.

Realizing that such observations did not exactly help in calming him, he hoped for her to say something soon to distract him.

She looked around the room, noting his tidying and then smiled at him brightly, looking even prettier. "Thank you," she said, "that was very observant of you. I appreciate independent thought."

Then she cocked her head and looked at him thoughtfully. "Actually, do you have any idea how to do a decent massage?"

Even the thought of touching her was dangerously close to what he found himself desiring. Eric carefully looked at his hands, concentrating on her question. "No, mistress." He answered truthfully and then found himself adding: "But that is something I would learn if you permit."

He was in for a lot of trouble if he didn't get a grip on his raging hormones quickly.

-

Now this, for a change, was an answer Rose instantly believed. Laughing merrily, she nodded at Eric, saying: 

"Oh, that's good news for sure. Come on, I'll direct you." 

Swiftly, she disappeared in the adjoining bathroom again, only to return a second later with a bottle of scented oil in her hand. Walking to her bed, laying down, she encouraged her slave:

"Come on, kneel next to me on the bed."

A little hesitant, Eric followed her directions, and Rose didn't think anything but that he probably was shy and not used to being around his master personally. 

"Here", she said, handing him the oil. It was odd to have someone else on the bed next to her, and it made her once again aware that Eric probably was weighing three times her own. But it was a nice thought, in a way, somehow comforting. And she wasn't worried at all. 

"Start with taking a little oil in your hands until it has the same temperature", she continued her instructions. "Then start oiling my shoulders and neck."

Doing as he was told, Eric started working on her back, his huge callused hands feeling even more giant as they touched her delicate frame. He was exceedingly careful, but rather clueless. 

Directing him with gestures and an occasionally mumbled word, with a lot of grunting and giggling of herself in between, Rose tried to tell him what to do. But after a few minutes, she decided that they would be getting nowhere useful this way. So waving his hands away form her back with a soft laughter, she sat up again, asking:

"Honestly, Eric, have you ever had a decent massage?"

"No, mistress." 

Apparently he knew that he didn't have a hint of an idea of what he was doing there, and wasn't at all insulted at her laughter. Good, very good, Rose found. 

"Thought so", she commented briefly, rising to stand on the bed next to her hulking slave, taking great care to cover herself again not to embarrass Eric any more than absolutely necessary and ordered: "Lay down."

-

"Mistress?" Eric looked up at her more than a little startled.

To touch her smooth skin, run his hands over her delicate frame and still feel all the hard and well trained muscles had not exactly helped to calm his hormones or clear his mind. He knew that he was not skilled at giving a massage and some angry voice in his head lamented the fact.

Why she now wanted him to lie down on her bed was beyond him.

"How are you supposed to learn anything you don't know?" His mistress smiled at him widely, looking just adorable from his current perspective. And more importantly, not angry at his inaptitude at all. "Come on, I won't bite."

Slowly realization settled in that she wanted to give him a massage to show him how it was supposed to be done. The thought was thrilling and frightening in the extreme. To have her delicate hands on him - he fought hard to suppress a shiver of excitement.

But of course - as always - he had no say in the matter so he nodded slowly, then stretched out on the bed, his muscles tensing up as he fought to control his body.

He heard her snicker softly. Then she peeled his tunic out of the belt and rolled it up, uncovering is back. Eric nearly jumped when she lithely settled down over his waist and he could feel her strong, very naked thighs against his equally naked skin. This truly was a test designed by the cruelest of gods.

Then she started applying oil to his shoulders and back and he could not help but sigh softly, as her strong fingers started to dig into muscles that had not relaxed in years, skillfully coaxing them into letting go.

"If you don't mind, you should take off your tunic, that would make things much easier." she said and he immediately obeyed, pulling it over his head, bunching it up to make a makeshift pillow. Suddenly he was not so much aware of her nearness anymore but of the pleasant tingle in his shoulder where his muscles had just started to loosen up.

Settling down again he sighed once more as she really started to work. It had been a long, long time since anything had felt truly pleasant. And the soft bed he was lying on, the feeling of a full stomach, relative safety and the fact that he had not slept properly in days now took their toll. He didn't even notice when he nodded off.

-

It was pleasant having such a tall man underneath her, and despite everything, he truly seemed to appreciate her care. Of course, she was currently spoiling him to no end, but Rose couldn't make herself mind. Eric had just the perfect hands for giving a massage, and that was one thing she definitely would be very grateful of once he got the hang of it. 

Under her delicate fingers, his back seemed huge, as did the numerous scars and scrapes he was bearing. For a moment, the young Noble wondered how one could treat another human being like that, until she reminded herself sharply that he was only a slave. And that he had probably deserved most, if not all, of his beatings. 

Hopefully. 

Suddenly noticing that her charge was snoring softly, Rose halted her massage to see if Eric was truly asleep or just very relaxed. He was sleeping, she decided, deep and sound and apparently rather content, judging by the tiny, serene smile on his face. 

How utterly adorable. 

For a second, Rose felt compelled to slap him awake, chiding him that he was sleeping while he was supposed to learn. But she couldn't bring herself to do it, not with a slave who probably had lived through a nightmare each of the last days. And even if she spoiled him terribly, he was her property to spoil or not, at her personal whim.

Sneaking off Eric's back, the young Noble put on a soft dressing robe. Not making any sound was so professionally ingrained to her that Eric didn't so much as stir as she gathered a few of her sweets and the last remaining helping of meat, arranging herself and the food cross-legged on the writing desk next to the bed. 

From the slightly elevated point of view she occupied now, Rose had an excellent view on her naked, sleeping slave, and she found it was a sight well worth three credits.

Soundlessly unwrapping the meat, she started eating, pondering what it was that made her like this secretive hunk of a slave so much. She knew her life was in for a big change now that she was apparently going to travel with entourage, but somehow she was sure it would be a change for the better.


	3. Chapter 3

Moving about the small cabin with silent efficiency, Eric picked up the last of his mistress' belongings and packed them away into her bags. She was normally a rather organized person, but the last days had been more than a little stressful for her. So, Eric had taken over keeping their cabin as tidy as she was used to. As he was used to by now as well.

He was quite used to basically everything about her, as they had not been parted for more than a few hours at a time since she bought him about three months ago. 

He knew that she worked as an assassin and not just traveled around the Known Worlds on pilgrimage. He knew that she preferred sweet honey cakes for breakfast and sweet and sour meat with thick sauces for dinner. He knew that she was capable of spending hours under the shower, but that she hated bathing. He knew that she needed sweets to calm herself when she was disgusted or angry. He knew that she loved to spend her evenings curled up on a bed, reading cheap romance novels or watching trideo and munching chocolate.

He also knew how her hair smelled and how it felt to have her lithe body snuggled against his when she slept. He knew that he had stepped over the line he had so carefully set up for himself. The line that had been supposed to keep him detached from his masters, to keep him hating them for owning his life. He also knew he was dangerously close to walking down that path to its end and falling in love with her.

She was sweet, gentle, and intelligent. She had a temper to match his and just like him she always tried hard to keep it in check, if with less success than he did. She was trying hard to be a mistress as stern and aloof as any noble should be, but when she sat cuddled against him in the evening, reading and munching, with him reading over her shoulder, she was just a girl he desperately wanted to love.

And she had no clue.

Even though they had slept in the same bed - first because there had been only one and then because she had gotten used to it - every single night since he had been hers she had not even once made any move on him. Lying awake at night with her in his arms, he had watched her sleep and pondered the fact that he had no way of telling her that he wanted her. As she obviously was not interested in him in that way there was a good chance she would be repulsed by his admission. 

What he was foolishly hoping for could not be anyway. A noble would never love a slave. As a treasured possession, maybe. But not as a man. That knowledge hurt and Eric tried to hang on to that pain to keep himself from falling even deeper. He was a slave. A thing. The same he had been for the last sixteen years. What relative happiness he could get he should treasure but never - never - should he expect more.

And no matter how much his heart bled, he did not want to lose her. She was by far the best mistress he could imagine and he would not risk the relative safety he had as her property.

Especially here on P2.

About a week ago, she had received notice from her family that the Imperial Consort required her services and that she was to be part of his newly formed personal guard. Rose had been anything but happy about this news. 

And now they had finally arrived. Only a few more minutes and the ship would land on P2 and Rose would start a new life. A life she did not want.

Right now she was sitting on the bed, chewing angrily on her last chocolate bar, watching him work.

-

"It's about time, isn't it? We're in landing procedure...", Rose stated as her overly acute senses noted a change in the spaceship's ever-present hum and buzz. With a deep sigh born of plain anxiety, she took another bite of her chocolate bar, her very last chocolate bar. 

Well, not really her very last, she always had an iron reserve hidden in the depths of her luggage, but that one was reserved for dire emergencies. And this now wasn't an emergency, this was merely the beginning of her new life. 

"What on all the worlds does the Consort want me for?", she asked, throwing her hands up in exasperation, asking the same question for the hundredth time. 

And as every time before, sweet Eric tried his best to come up with an answer he hadn't given her already, so he replied with hardly any of his annoyance showing: "That is not for us mere mortals to question, is it, mistress?"

"Well, I think I've got a right to ask about my fate, august Outrageousness or not", Rose snapped. The whole situation had been grating on her nerves since she had received the call to P2, but right now, when all she could do was to wait and see, it seemed to overwhelm her. “I only hope he doesn't think of me as a pious young thing doing one pilgrimage after another. I'd die in his service...."

"And what would he need a pious young thing for, mistress?" Still, her slave tried to be friendly and polite, but more and more he was fed up with his owner's repetitive questions. Packing Rose's belongings into a suitcase, he slammed the lid close with emphasis. “Of course it's not really my place, but the Consort is not exactly known for his normality. He probably knows perfectly well what you do and that's why he wants you." 

His challenging look was met by a dramatic sigh from Rose, who asked: 

"And if? Will he treat me like the assassin I am or like a simple killer? Heavens, I haven't been that nervous since.... well, I can't recall ever having been this nervous! How can you remain this calm?"

"Because for me, nothing changes?", he replied rather tiredly.

Of course, her slave was right. He had been every time in the course of the last days when their discussion had invariably turned to this point. Rose hated being so pointedly shown how childish she was acting. With just the merest trace of a nod, she continued, mostly to herself: 

"I'm working alone. I've never had anything like a team. I've never had a place to stay nor a title and 'representative duties'." Pronouncing the last words pretty much like 'eternal damnation', she turned to Eric with renewed anger. “And this Consort simply drives me crazy. The emperor himself, he's just a brilliant madman every now and then shooting people without reason. But this Habichtswald, there's not even a remote pattern in this tangled mess of eccentricities he insists on calling his character!"

-

Finally coming to the end of his patience Eric snapped back at her: "So? What do you expect me to do about it? Shoot him?"

Of course, he was out of line with that comment, but even his iron self control had limits.

He was almost surprised when she blinked at him in shock but then didn't scold him for his insolence. 

"What? No!" She jumped from the bed and came over to him to gently touch his arm. “Dear, I'd never ask such a thing of you." she said, sounding genuinely upset to have angered him. “I... I don't expect anything of you but sympathy and maybe a hard slap across the face in case I'm getting hysterical."

That brought a smirk to Eric's face even though he tried hard to stay angry at her childish behavior. “Like now?" he asked cockily, for once omitting the 'mistress' he used almost always when addressing her.

Her eyes narrowed with warning as she stared at him hard. Obviously, she was really close to the end of her patience as well. “I'm not hysterical right now," she growled.

Then she stuffed the last piece of her chocolate bar into her mouth and gave an abysmal sigh. “At least not yet," she added. “But I'm running out of chocolate, so I fear it's only a matter of time."

"We are out of time anyway." Eric commented as the ship's engines went silent. He picked up her bags. 

She sighed once more. “Eric?" she asked pleadingly and he already knew what her next words would be. He had heard them often enough by now to be able to recite their conversation in his sleep.

"Yes, I'll be careful, mistress." he answered before she could voice her request.

-

Oh, how she hated when he used this tone! Slapping him softly across the chest as it was right within her reach, she snapped: 

"Stop mocking me! You've got no idea of what these Dracons are capable of, especially concerning slaves. Especially such beautiful ones..."

"I do know what they are capable of, mistress, it is my hide on the line, of course I will be careful."

For a moment, she was tempted to scold him for his insolent tone, but she couldn't make herself act harshly right now. Rose needed comfort, not a well-behaved slave. Acting purely on instinct, she hugged Eric around his waist, snuggling close against his stomach. “Of course you know. It's just... I'm so terribly worried about you. You're... I've gotten so used to you being around me since I've bought you, and I wouldn't know what I would do if anything happened to you."

Now that was probably the worst she could have said to a slave as long as proper treatment was concerned, but it felt so good to explain to him why she always bothered him with her reminders of the bottomless Dracon depravity. Being worried for Eric was one of the reasons Rose was so restless by now, but not the only one. What would happen to him if he ended up as victim of one of those countless plots and machinations within the Imperial Palace? 

With another deep sigh, she added: "And also, I'm not sure what's going to happen with me, so I'm also worried what will happen to you once I am no longer."

Almost hesitantly, his huge arms closed around her shoulders in a gesture of genuine affection. “I'm sure nothing bad will happen, Rose."

He had called her Rose, not 'mistress'. How odd and how wonderful to hear her name from his lips. Even though he was only a slave. 

"I wish I had your confidence, dear. But I hope you're right." Rubbing her nose against his chest, trying to hide how stupid she felt about her repeated loss of composure, she added: "And if ever again I start acting like a crazed chicken, you just hit me hard, will you?"

Hugging her even closer, Eric replied with a deep, caring voice that made Rose go all warm and fuzzy inside: "You know I wouldn't ever hit you."

"Yeah", she snorted amiably, knowing that he probably never would. “You'll get both of us killed one day cause you're so soft."

"Not likely as long as you are around", he said, reluctantly releasing the young noble out of his embrace. 

"Frighteningly likely when moments like this one happen any more often", Rose returned, not joking at all. If she was about to lose her calm anytime inside the palace, the odds were strongly against them. “I'm not someone who's easily afraid, you know that rather well. But living in this place swarming with Dracons and this utterly irritating Consort all around me makes me want to scream and run." 

Her eyes still fixed on Eric, Rose finally felt her body calm down a little, at least enough to brace the first steps into her new life without doing something fatally stupid. So, picking up what of her luggage she was going to carry, she said wistfully: 

"I only hope my colleagues will be reliable."


	4. Chapter 4

Usually, your life changes in the very moment you least expect it to. 

And Brother Lenny really didn’t expect his life to change when he was shopping for some fruit and atalia-oil in the imperial palace’s food court. 

Not that he actually was a brother of the Temple of Aroona. He was just as slave, a servant of the temple. But the young man wore the blue robes of the Aroona, and hardly anybody noticed the slave collar around Lenny’s neck. At least, not as long as he was merely shopping. And he didn't really mind the misunderstanding.

Walking around the maze of courtyards, stalls and restaurants that made up the region of the palace called the ‘food court’, Lenny had not idea that this day would be different than any other. 

He would buy some fruits and some sweets to offer to those coming to the temple asking for assistance. He would buy some atalia-oil, which wasn’t only rather delicious on salads and in non-dairy ice-creams, but also made for a gorgeously sumptuous massage oil. He would return to the chapel here in the palace and go on working like any other good slave. 

But then suddenly, among all the other scents and sounds of food and dining from all over the many stars of the Empire, there was a scent, a memory, that caught all his attention. For a single heartbeat, he was transported back to his childhood, to the few moments when he had felt safe, cherished and loved unconditionally. 

The memory of his elder brother hit him like a hammer. 

At first, Lenny thought it was merely a momentary pang of melancholia, a sudden longing for those rare good things that he had lost. 

But none of the techniques he had learned at the temple to calm his heart seemed to help. Looking around, he tried to find something, anything that could have triggered that wave of memories. And in the end, he found someone. 

Another slave. Tall as a tree, broad as an oak door, with dark wavy hair that reminded him so much of his brother that Lenny felt tears welling up in his eyes. 

But as hard as he tried to remain rational, the illusion remained. Could that really…?

The other slave finally realized he was blatantly being stared at. He looked at Lenny questioningly, then behind himself, then shrugged and turned away. 

It was impossible. But even his face…

Finally gathering his wits, Lenny dropped the baskets he had been carrying and ran after the other slave. It was ridiculously improbable that his brother would still be alive, and even less probable that of all the places of the empire he would turn up here, at the Imperial Palace. But still, what if…?

“Excuse me! Sorry?!” Lenny called out when he caught up with him. Upon close, there was no doubt in his heart. This was his brother. “Enrique? Enrique, is that really you?”

But the other slave only frowned, carefully studying Lenny’s face for anything remotely familiar. “Have we met?”

“It's you!” the young slave exclaimed, now entirely sure he had found his brother after hearing the other man’s voice. But still there was no sign of recognition on his face. 

Little wonder at that, Lenny finally realized. It had been, how long, four years they had seen each other? Lenny had grown a lot since then. “It’s me, Lenny!”

“I'm afraid I don't remember you...”

How could his brother not remember? Lenny was torn between the embarrassment of maybe harassing some total stranger and the bitter thought that maybe his beloved brother didn’t want to know him any longer. What else could he say to make him remember? “But, we grew up together...”

“’Lenny’...? I... are you sure...?”

The other slave was still awfully polite, but by now, Lenny seriously started having some doubts. 

“Well, yes, I am sure... I think.” 

Suddenly, more acting on instinct than anything else, Lenny leaned forward and sniffed at the other slave. And had to suppress a gleeful hoot. He could be mistaken about a face, a voice, a stance, but that scent brought back memories of his childhood, the only good memories of the time before he had been bought by the temple. Memories of his brother, and you can’t fake another person’s scent. 

“Oh I am definitely sure.”

“Stop that.” His brother replied, stepping back a little, his clear admonishing entirely unchanged from when he had scolded Lenny when he had been a little boy.

“Oh.” Well, he had never sniffed at his brother when they were still together on Halo. 

But why didn’t he remember? It wasn’t as if Lenny just could blurt out their history, or the true name of their mother to prove his identity. Not here. 

He could not even use their true names. Too much history on those, and way too much blood. No names ever to be used in a place crawling with Dracons. Especially not the Imperial Palace. 

But then again, some risks were worse than others. 

“Enrique, it's me, Leonardo."

And all of a sudden, recognition lit up the other slave’s face, and he hugged Lenny so tightly that he could hardly breathe. 

“Leon…”

-

It had taken that one name to smash through Eric's carefully built inner defences and suddenly he was flooded with memories he had buried in the darkest corner of his mind.

Holding his baby brother in his arms when he was no more than a tiny bundle, Eric himself barely a teenager, whispering to him in the night about their mother, telling him about the stables at the estate that now belonged to some other noble. Telling him that he must be brave and strong because that was what their house was all about.

Teaching his brother to walk, the cute toddler stumbling towards him, brown eyes shining with happiness and trust.

Scolding his growing brother for getting into a tussle with some other slave boys over some trifle while actually he was incredibly proud that Leon had won that fight against his bigger opponents.

So many memories, each a treasured light, locked away tightly not to be touched by the dark reality of the present.

How could he have missed that boy in the face of the young man he was now hugging as close as he could, silently vowing never to let him go again.

The small happy sound his brother made while snuggling closer against him made his heart feel like it was made of brittle glass and would splinter under the sudden onslaught of emotion any moment. 

"Oh my God! I thought I'd never see you again!" Leon murmured, and Eric felt the wetness of tears against his chest. "I missed you so much!"

Eric tried so say something but didn't manage to force his emotions into words. All he could do was squeeze his brother even tighter.

Only Leon's slightly chocking sound and his complaining "Please, Enrique, I need some air..." made him relax his hold a bit. Then his brother was gazing up at him, smiling through his tears.

"You look... good." Leon said, his voice filled with quiet wonder. "Not as beaten as I feared." 

Those words brought another tide of memories. The dark ones. Last time he had seen his brother he had been beaten indeed. Held down by two guards while he had to watch helplessly while that noble tore off his brother's tunic, while he...

With brutal self control, Eric shoved those images back into the box they had escaped from. He had years of practise in doing that by now.

Instead, he concentrated on the beautiful face looking up at him. A face that held no trace of the terrible things that had been done to Leon, smiling, his sensual brown eyes full of happiness. It seemed impossible yet his brother's body was solid in his arms.

"Why... how... are you here?" Eric finally voiced his confusing, not yet able to convey how happy he was himself at this unexpected gift. "You're... okay...?"

"Yes." Leon nodded. "I am with the temple now. They've been very good to me."

Only now did Eric notice that his brother was wearing the typical, practically-cut blue robes of Temple Aroona. 

He didn't know much about them, but he had heard plenty. How they had orgies instead of services. That their founder was rumoured to also be a demon worshipper. How they sucked the souls from their flock and sold them to the psions’ guild.

"With them?!" he exclaimed, dread closing around his heart at the thought that they had his brother in their thrall. That they were using him for their vile rituals somehow. "What are they doing to you?!"

-

If there had been any doubt left if this man was his long-lost brother, this last reaction proved it more than anything else. With an odd mix of joy and up-welling dread, Lenny shook head, trying to convey as much calm as he could. 

“Oh, please not again! They're good to me.” Lenny remembered all to well what had happened the last time when Enrique thought his baby brother was in danger. Self-preservation then seemed to drop awfully low on his list of priorities. “Really. I am happy with them. Please don't do anything stupid. Again.”

A pained look spread across his brother’s face, and he drew their embrace tighter again. “Oh god, I am sorry!”

Feeling his brother’s genuine distress, Lenny just about managed not to reply something snappy. Instead, he gently stroked Enrique’s neck, hoping to calm this soft-hearted giant of a man before he did something rash. 

“That's okay... Sorry about what exactly?”

“I didn't protect you.” 

Well, it would definitely have been a lot easier if his brother had still been around for a few years longer, Lenny thought. Being raped isn’t nice, but watching your beloved brother trying to rescue you, getting beaten up and sold and then still being raped sure wasn’t one milla better.

“I should have protected you... I'm sorry... so sorry... I should have... I don't know...”

His mouth soundlessly working, Lenny frantically tried to think of something to say. A million things came to his mind, all of them honest, vaguely rude and definitely not helpful. But he wanted his brother to be happy, and really, all the old wounds didn’t matter that much now. 

But then, the constant work he did at the temple paid off, and he felt Mother Sophia’s stern look at his back almost as pointedly as her finger in his side. With sudden conviction, he grabbed his brother’s face and looked deep into his eyes, speaking with that unmistakeable conviction that can only come from the bottom of one’s heart. 

“You did so much for me. You were all the family I had, and you did a great job. There was no way you could have prevented me being eventually noticed by a passing noble.” 

With a tiny smile at his brother’s startled look, he added softly: “It was not your fault. You are my brother, and I love you.“

Still, Enrique seemed to be deeply troubled, but at least he seemed to be snapping out of it. 

“I really should have...” With a sigh, he tucked Lenny under his chin, just as he had done all those years ago when they had been nothing but farm slaves on Halo. “I should have kept my mouth shut, so I would have been there.”

“That would have been nice.” 

Gently patting his brother’s wide chest, Lenny gave a soft sight. That really would have been great, but it would have never happened. Family above all else, even if they were just a family of two now.

“But don't worry about me, really. I won't lie and say it was a nice time without you. But you raised me well, and I survived, and I came out on top.”

\- 

Eric found that hard to believe, even though his brother looked well enough. But he knew how apt he was himself at hiding what he really felt. The urge to press Leon for more information, to get the name of every single person who had ever harmed his baby brother and find and kill them was strong, but he suppressed it. At least for the time being.

"But how did you get here?" he asked, suddenly realising how utterly improbable it was for him to run into his lost brother right here in the food court of the Imperial Palace. It was the kind of coincidence Rose would have had a heart attack over. He gestured around them "I mean... HERE, of all places?" 

His brother put on the insolent little smirk that Eric still remembered well. That smirk was the one he used when he was oh-so-sure that he was smarter than his big brother.

"I could ask you the very same question." Leon answered without answering anything. 

Then he thoughtfully scratched his neck. "Care for a coffee?" he asked, pointing at a stall nearby. "It is a bit suspicious, if we keep hugging like that. I can pay, I have some credits."

That immediately brought up the question in Eric's mind how he had come by credits. Leon had never been above stealing, even though Eric had always strongly discouraged it. But that was not a question he would bring up right here and now.

Having a cup of coffee with his brother in the food court of the Imperial Palace. The notion was just so absurd he almost laughed out loud. It sounded so ordinary and yet was so impossible. But Leon was real.

Of course he wanted to, but a tiny voice in the back of his head suddenly warned him that he didn't have forever. He had to get back to Rose's suite before she came home. Before she noticed he was missing. 

In her paranoia she had ordered him to stay in the apartment unless he was in her company. That had worked fine for the first two days, but then Eric had become more and more restless.

During Rose's travels, they had only been parted while she went out to complete a 'mission', which never took her more than a few hours. Here she was gone half the day on duty and slept most of the other half. Eric was feeling the pressure of constantly being locked up on his own without any human contact. 

At first Eric had tried to occupy himself with work. He had started to learn how to cook. Rose loved food of almost every variety, and the delighted look when she tried something he had made for her made up for a lot of loneliness.

But in the end that simply wasn't enough.

So he had started to sneak out of the apartment when she was on duty. Yes, it was dangerous. Any passing noble could take an interest in him and do with him whatever they pleased. But it was still better than going insane with boredom. He kept his excursions short. Just little trips to the food court to pick up some ingredients for his cooking experiments or to the palace's public library. As long as he made sure she didn't notice his absence she wouldn't panic.

He glanced up at the huge clock decorating the central spire that rose from the food court. It would be at least another two hours before Rose came home. That should be enough for coffee with his brother and getting back early enough to fix dinner.

"Okay... but I don't have much time..."

-

Apparently, Enrique wasn't able to move around the palace as freely as Leon had hoped. But it was still better than nothing. After all, any owner putting up with his big, opinionated brother deserved a little respect.

“So, I take your owner is not of the lenient kind?” he said, trying to get some kind of conversation going while he picked up his baskets and ordered their coffee. 

But much to Lenny's concern, his brother sighed in response, several conflicting emotions flitting across his face, only to disappear behind a neutral mask. 

“It's... complicated...”

“Now, is it.” This definitely wasn't what Lenny had expected. There were so many connotations of genuine care and worry in his brother’s answer that it didn't sound much like the proud, bullish slave he had known. But if Enrique had changed into someone a little more open to emotional subtleties, it was change Lenny welcomed whole-heartedly. 

“Well... I... Okaaayyy...” It sure wouldn't do to press Enrique any further, so Lenny shut up for a moment and paid their coffees. Taking their cups to a small table in a booth in the corner, he tried to silence his nagging curiosity for the sake of a nice, positive subject to talk about. Finally, he put on a small smile and explained: “I am with the Temple of Aroona now, and I serve Mother Sophia of the Imperial Chapel, here in the palace.” 

“But... how did you get here...?” A heartbeat later, he obviously thought better of it, shaking his head almost imperceptibly. “Never mind... maybe I don't want to know...”

Instead, Enrique took a sip of his coffee, all the time never taking his eyes of his little brother, as if having to catch up on all those missed observations. ”You... you're so... tall...”

“Yes, I have grown a lot over the last years.” Lenny replied with a wide smile. “But still I fit under your chin and could hide twice behind you.”

“Yeah well...” Enrique shrugged with a dry chuckle of his own. “I've not exactly been idle...”

“Well, we both haven't been, I am sure of that.” 

But while Lenny had slept his way up through the beds of various overseers and commoners until he had caught the attention of a travelling Aroona priest, Enrique had probably seen a parade of beatings, whippings and hard labour. Thinking of which made Lenny wonder how much trouble exactly his brother was stirring up for himself by taking the time to talk to him. 

“Are you safe with your master?”

“No.” Enrique replied instantly with a sound somewhere between a groan and a laugh, pinching the bridge of his nose as if forcing himself not to turn hysterical on the subject. “No, definitely not. But nothing for you to worry about.”

That positively sounded complicated. And if Lenny knew one thing, it was that his big brother was easily overwhelmed by complex situations. 

“You know, I could ask Mother Sophia to buy you. The temple has rather deep pockets, and I am sure there's need for someone of your... build...”

As neutral as Lenny had tried to put the last part, he immediately knew he had put up the wrong subject again. Enrique leaned back with a deep frown on his face, his head probably swimming with half-formed ideas of terrible orgies and abuse. 

“What exactly ARE you serving that woman with...?”

Thinking of the tiny old lady that was Mother Superior Sophia of the Temple of Aroona, Lenny had to suppress a snicker. There would be an awful lot of perceptions about the Aroona to set straight with his brother, he decided. But that would have to happen step by step. 

“Mother Sophia, you mean? I help with the shopping and the upkeep of the chapel, and I help her with the patients and the rituals. As any good slave of the temple.” 

“She is using you for her... orgies...?”

“Only occasionally. I am still not very far along in my training.” Lenny had given this explanation, hoping his matter-of-fact way would somewhat disperse his brothers weirdly romantic notions of drugged priests dancing naked in the moonlight and fucking like bunnies. But before he could reign himself in, the pride in his achievements got the better of him, and without further thinking, he added with genuine excitement: “This is the coolest thing I've ever been doing. You know, Mother Sophia even said that if I worked really hard, I might even be allowed to apply for novice-ship. Can you imagine?!”

Enrique's petrified face was probably due to the deep horror he was feeling at the thought of his little baby brother in the hands of those perverts. But Lenny didn't even want to recognize the possibility that there was something wrong about the Aroona, so he continued playing clueless.

“I was speechless as well when she first told me.” he agreed with a nod, smiling widely. “Can you imagine, me a proper priest?”

“We have to get you out of there! I have to talk to Rose!”

All of a sudden, Lenny remembered how annoying his big brother could be in all his cordial, smothering protectiveness. A tiny, searing flare of anger shot up in his heart, together with the clear intention of putting an end to this as soon as possible. Lenny had survived on his own these last four years, and was genuinely proud of what he had achieved. Swift but cooly, he snapped: “A) you're doing it again. B) So her name is Rose... Have you been together for a long time?”

That last part Lenny had added purely on instinct, just to get at least some tiny bit of information out of his brother. But seeing Enrique pale instantly, Lenny realized he had hit far closer to home than he would have ever intended. 

“What?! No!” Looking genuinely scared, Enrique even threw a worried glance over his shoulder. “Don't even think that!”

“My, it IS complicated.” Unsettling his elder brother had been the last thing on his mind. But maybe, if things really were that complicated with 'Rose', it was a good thing that Lenny was now around. After all, Temple Aroona was known for its healing powers, and the knowledge of how to heal broken hearts was by far their most cherished skill. So he put a calming hand on Enrique's arm, trying to sound as reassuring and grown-up as he possibly could. “Listen, Enrique, I am not a small child any longer. I am neither stupid nor blind. Please don't get yourself into trouble again now that I have found the only family I have. You are staying at the palace for a while, though, are you?”

-

Eric drew in a deep breath, trying to calm himself. His little brother had never been very perceptive or even just interested in the people around him. That had apparently changed a great deal. Or was it really that obvious how he felt about Rose? If it was he would have to work really hard to suppress his emotions better or he might quickly be right back where she had found him. She would not welcome such an unwelcome complication as her stupid slave falling in love with her in her already over-complicated life.

Trying to concentrate on the subject at hand he answered Leon's question. "Yes, Rose... my mistress is working here at the palace."

For a long moment he searched Leon's face but still found only relaxed happiness, now mixed with a tiny bit of worry which was obviously directed at Eric himself. How he could be happy in his situation was beyond Eric but he had no idea really how his brother had changed.

"The temple... are you... you sound... happy...?" he tried to voice his doubts.

"I am happy." Leon replied immediately. "I don't know what you have heard, but it's all much less depraved than you seem to think. You'll see once you'll give us a chance."

With quiet sadness Eric admitted to himself that he would have to believe his brother. Even if he had been the mistreated pet of some Dracon noble there wouldn't have been much Eric could have done about it.

"Leonardo, I just need you to be safe." He said softly.

"I am as save as a human can be." Leon smiled with the sad bitterness Eric felt as well. "Unless you keep calling me that name. I am Lenny now." He added.

"Yes..." Eric's smile mirrored that of his brother. "Then you may want to call me Eric."

"Eric is a good name." Leon answered with just a tiny bit teary-eyed. They both were keenly aware what was forever lost them, even if Leon had never really known it.

For a while they both stirred their respective coffees, lost in thought.

Then Leon spoke up again. "If ever you want to see me, just come to the chapel and ask for Lenny. They'll call me." He said.

Such an easy offer and still so hard to accept for a slave who did not control his own life. "I... I'll try... I'm not even supposed to leave the apartment..." Eric explained unhappily.

Leon's reaction was not quite what he had expected. He grinned widely. "I just love you." He said. "You can't behave, can you?"

Eric frowned but before he could say something appropriate his brother continued already. "Then what the hell are you doing here in the foodcourt, actually?"

That at least Eric had an answer for his brother would not expect. "I'm looking for the recipe to meatballs in apricot glaze... they are really spicy..." he answered truthfully.

Rose had been going on and on about the dish for days now after it had been served at one of the meeting of the Captains of the Malachite Guard.

Leon blinked at him in consternation. "What happened to my brother?" he asked, only half joking. "Did they whack you on the head a few times too many? Since when are you interested in food?"

Eric could not suppress a smirk. "Yeah, they whacked me a lot..." he joked about what had been the painful truth of his existence for four long years.

"Oh I am sure they did." Leon smirked right back at him and brought back memories of the insolent brat he had been.

Eric smacked him playfully. "I don't want to eat them; I'm just looking for the recipe."

"That actually sees me even more concerned." Leon laughed. "So you risk being whipped to shreds for a fucking recipe?" he asked.

That reminded Eric of what would really happened when Rose found out he had been sneaking out of the apartment against her orders. He would never hear the end of it, hysterical breakdown included.

"Actually being whipped would be nice compared to... never mind..." he stopped himself. Being whipped would NOT be nice. He had the scars to prove that. "IF I get that recipe and she doesn't find out I was here, it will be worth it."

It would be a fool-proof way to pacify her whenever she got worked up over something. That was priceless.

"And she will believe you that you kind of sublimated the recipe by sitting in your cell? That for sure is an odd talent for a farm stronghand." Leon eyes him full of doubt.

Eric tousled his brother fondly. Not only Leon had changed a lot. "I mostly cook nowadays, Leon, and she doesn't keep me in a cell." He said.

"It's Lenny." Leon reminded him again and made Eric realize that he would have a really hard time getting used to that. "And if she doesn't lock you up, then why are you here without permission?"

"Because she doesn't know what good for her." The words were out before he had time to carefully consider what he was going to say. His chatty brother definitely was having a dangerous effect on him.

Leon grinned. "Glad there's still some little bit of old over protective Eric in there some where." He said happily.

Eric smiled back at him. "I have missed you, little brother." 

"I know. I am so happy we have found each other. God truly seems to smile on us." Leon replied with much more confidence than Eric felt. Still he hoped Leon would be right.


	5. Chapter 5

It had been one of those days in the service of his August Outrageousness the Emperor's Consort. Not that anything out of the ordinary had happened. But the emperor's husband had a way of making even the most mundane events seem... one of a kind. 

Tired, Rose rubbed her face. Never in her life had she imagined that not killing people could be this exhausting. But, on the other hand, she had to admit that her employer achieved many things anybody else wouldn't even have thought possible. She had no idea how he did it, but after several weeks in Prince Amadeus' service, she had to admit that her professional respect was slowly giving way to a cautious but dazzled admiration. And to deep exhaustion, of course. 

When Rose finally arrived at the door of her suite, she was already smiling again. Eric had taken up cooking and was becoming rather proficient at it actually. And with all the running around she was doing lately, there was little threat to her shape if she ate properly. She was actually looking forward to what her huge, brooding slave had prepared for tonight's dinner. 

And after dinner, she thought with a happy smile and an inaudible purr, there would be a long, hot shower and then she would snuggle up in bed and watch this year's season finale of 'Even Nobles Cry', maybe even with Eric at her side. 

Rose had never had a chance of keeping up with her favourite holonovela while she was still travelling. But here, at the heart of the empire with all technological marvels at her disposal and even something like a predictable work shift, a long-held dream of hers finally came true: she could watch humanity's longest-running soap opera just like every other citizen of the empire. It actually was a terrible, sappy and convoluted mess of a story, barely veiling some blunt pro-nobility propaganda, but still. There was nothing remotely better than an evening with Eric, a box of chocolates and 'Even Nobles Cry'. 

Entering her suite, the scents wafting from the kitchen made her almost forget her plans for the evening. Sweet and spicy notes were hanging in the air, with the unmistakeable scent of braised meat and fresh, crispy bread. It was a hypnotic mix, to say the least. 

Swiftly, Rose slipped into the kitchen, much too focussed on the food to remember that the armour she was still wearing didn't make any mentionable sound. The consort truly had thought of everything in designing his personal guards' outfits. 

Eric was standing at the stove, wearing the blue tunic she had bought him the first day. Checking up on a multitude of pots and pans in front of him, he seemed perfectly absorbed in his task. He even was humming a song of some sorts, and all together seemed in a splendid mood. 

At least, that was until he noticed his mistress suddenly standing mere inches away from him at his side. His hummed song broke off in a small sound of surprise that could almost have passed for a squeak, if it wasn't for his massive size. But instantly the smile was back on his face. 

Over the last weeks, Rose had accidentally sneaked up on him so many times that he had stopped being upset with her. Not that he had any right to be upset, Rose instantly corrected herself. I can walk around my place however loudly or silently as I wish. 

“Hey Eric.” She said gently, once again beaming with anticipation. Up close, dinner looked even better than it had smelled. 

“Good evening, mistress.” he replied, smiling down on her with something like genuine fondness.

“You seem to be in a splendid mood tonight. That's... nice.” Actually, it was a heaven-sent change from the brooding mood he was in as soon as he thought Rose didn't look. “Did anything special happen during the day?”

“Not much.” he replied evenly while preparing some fruit juice for Rose. 

“Thank you.” Had it been her mistake of asking something too vague or had Eric deliberately been evading her question? Despite everything, sometimes Rose wondered if she would ever learn to properly talk to her slave. But instead of dwelling on the old problem, she started taking off her armour, gloves and bracers first, then boots and pauldrons. Regardless of how amazingly light the green armour was, it was a delight to get out of it after a long day. With a sigh of bliss, she stretched her toes and took a sip of the cool juice. So far, her stay at the Imperial Palace was turning out much less of a disaster than she had feared. 

“This smells intriguing.” she stated when her nose finally brought her back into the present. ”What's for dinner?”

“This and that.” Eric annoyingly replied with a wide smile, not even looking up from his cooking. “Did you have a hard day?”

“Exhausting? Yes. Hard? No. The Consort is a class of his own when it comes to being eccentric.” This was the understatement of the century, but she really wasn't in a mood of making fine points. Instead, she walked over to the stove, starting to look into the various pots, too curious to wait for Eric to finally answer her question properly. “Is that apricot glaze?”

“Yes, mistress.”

“Impressive.” Another understatement. She had only once eaten those meatballs during a meeting of the Malachite Guard's captains, and mentioned them once or twice to Eric. And now here they were, smelling pitch-perfect. “How'd you get the recipe?”

For a moment, Eric's hands stopped moving. 

“I... guessed it?”

He was a terrible liar, Rose remembered with a sudden pang of anger. She really had told him often enough that she would know if he lied. And still, he always tried it again. And now he was lying about meatballs? She would never understand that slave. 

“Then why are you lying to me?”

His answer took a moment longer, this time, and only came after a defeated sigh. 

“I went to foodcourt and asked the stall owner for the recipe.” 

It took Rose several full heartbeats to understand what her slave had just said. Standing there, his eyes closed as if he couldn't bear to see the righteous anger in her eyes, Eric was a mystery almost as infuriating to Rose as the consort. 

“Good heavens.” She couldn't believe it. Foodcourt was in the palace's central spire, twelve levels above the ground, facing the gate spoke. Walking there from their suite would take almost twenty minutes. Twenty long minutes among the worst politicians and criminal cut-throats of the empire!

“But... I told you...” She had told him not to leave the safety of their suite. He was but a slave, and completely unprotected if he walked around without his owner. Suddenly, the realization that Eric could have perfectly well been stolen or killed today hit her like an icy wave. The plain dread of the very thought washed away all her pretence at proper behaviour. Rose all but jumped at her tall slave, both hands clinging to his arm. “Are you all right? Did nothing happen to you?”

-

Of course Eric had known that at some point Rose would find out that he had slipped from the apartment against her orders. She was much too smart for him to be able to fool her forever. Somehow he had managed to not think about the consequences too much while still dreading that moment.

There were two possible reactions and Eric wasn't entirely sure which he would prefer.

Either she would be furious and have him punished for disobeying. Which, in all honesty, was highly unlikely, judging from what he had seen of her in the months he had been her slave.

Or she would do exactly what she was doing right now: reach new heights of anxiety about all the terrible things that lurked around every corner, ready to shred unsuspecting bystanders.

Possibly she would chain him to the kitchen now "for his own good".

But telling her had been the only honourable thing to do. He hated lying to her. She treated him so much better than all his previous owners, almost like a human being. And if he ever wanted to be able to see his brother he had to at least try to make her understand that he could not stay locked up in the apartment forever.

"I'm perfectly fine, mistress." He tried to reassure her, looking down to where she was clutching his arm like a lifeline. Despite everything it was always nice to feel her hands on him. Which wasn't a good thing at all.

Immediately she let go of his arms as if it burned her. "That was very inappropriate." She stated, still highly agitated.

"Yes, mistress." Eric admitted, only belatedly realizing that it wasn't clear whether he meant his forbidden trip to the foodcourt or her clinging.

She glared up at him through slitted eyes and nodded angrily. For a long moment, they looked at each other, Eric silently awaiting his fate and Rose breathing deeply, trying to calm herself.

"You were under direct orders not to leave the suite." She finally stated the obvious.

"Yes, mistress."

Did she really think he had forgotten her almost daily reminders not to leave the apartment, not to let anyone in while she was gone and the cryptic command "to be careful".

"You could have just called the stall!" She threw her arms in the air in exasperation and started pacing. "Didn't you think of all the things that could have happened to you out there?!"

"No mistress, you do that well enough for both of us." Eric snapped back, now getting annoyed himself and struggling with his patience.

Of course, he knew how dangerous the Imperial Palace could be for a slave with the countless nobles looking for their personal brand of amusement. He knew first hand what it was like to be at the mercy of someone who didn't even know the meaning of the word. He had the scars to prove it.

That didn't mean that he would hide under a bed like some coward. They had taken his freedom, his family, his life - but he'd be damned if he would let some have his pride. He was not some weak-minded toy to be cuddled and wrapped up protectively.

Rose mouth snapped shut audibly and she stopped her pacing to glare at him again. "Don't you care at all?!"

Now it was Eric's turn to take a calming breath. Worrying was a way of life for Rose, he should not hold that against her. She was a smart woman and she usually was able to see reason if it was presented calmly.

To occupy his hands with something he turned back to the stove and stirred the food.

"Mistress, I have to admit I would rather have SOMETHING happening to me at all than being locked up in here and going slowly insane." He tried to explain.

-

“Oh.“

Unfortunately, that last remark made absolute sense to her. It had been an absolutely inappropriate remark for a slave to make, that much for sure, but still. Had she really thought she could lock up a grown man in her suite like a doll?

“I'm sorry mistress, that was out of line.” 

“Yes.” Indeed, it had been. Rose hid her face in her hands, trying to hide her agitation and to give her hands something to do. How in the empire could she have thought he would be happy in a prison, as luxurious as it might be? And why, the hell, did she even care if he was happy? Without removing her hands, she said: “I'm sorry too. I should have thought of that.”

There, she had done it again. Apologized to her slave. Rose felt sure she was the worst master ever. This would end badly, very badly. Rose was so sure of that. 

“I met my brother in the foodcourt.” Eric remarked suddenly, obviously trying to deflect from the fact that he had ignored a direct order.

“You have a brother?”

“Yes, mistress.”

“And he's here, in the palace?!”

All of a sudden, this heretofore unmentioned brother turns up at the palace? Rose felt alarm-bells ringing in her head. In her world, coincidences only happened to make the prey believe everything was still fine, while in truth, the predators were already lurking behind the next corner. And coincidences on this scale were a very, very bad thing!

“Yes, mistress.” He even had the audacity to sound vaguely amused by her concern. 

Didn't he see that there were only a handful of very dangerous factions in the empire that could orchestrate a coincidence on such a scale? Merely the research into Rose's life and the background of her slave would have been an insurmountable challenge for the spies of most noble houses. 

“And that doesn't strike you as a rather conspicuous coincidence?”

“Of course, mistress. It must be a trap.”

So he WAS mocking her! Rose could hardly believe her ears. First, he was disobedient to a stunning degree, and now he was mocking her concern for him! Her obviously misplaced concern for him. 

“That is nothing to be joking about. This is deadly serious!”

“Yes, mistress.” For a moment, it looked as if Eric considered yet another insolence, but then he merely said: “I am very happy to have found him again.”

“Yeah, well, I...” Rose really didn't know what to say to that. Eric was a fool for leaving the suite unprotected, but maybe considering every coincidence the prelude to an attack was just as foolish. In plain desperation of finding something to hide her insecurity, she gulped down the remaining fruit juice. The cool, tangy juice helped to calm her nerves at least a little. “That is rather unexpected. Is he... a slave as well?”

“Yes, mistress. He belongs to Temple Aroona.”

“Does he now.” That, actually, sounded like good news for a change. Whatever else she might think of the Temple, there was one thing Rose's house knew for sure. They might be absolutely inscrutable in their motives, but just as well Temple Aroona was known to be one of the least corrupt organisations of the Phoenix Empire. Bribing an Aroona priest sounded ridiculous even to Rose's ears. 

Also, Rose hadn't forgotten that Eric hadn't been born a slave. What if his brother had been a commoner, or worse, another noble? The complications would have been endless. Maybe she should be happy for Eric. After all, having siblings was supposed to be a good thing, not that she knew any of that. “I'm sure you've had a lot to talk about. Have you been separated for a long time?”

\- 

A lifetime, Eric thought. Too long. A million years to long.

What he said was: "Four years, mistress." 

He knew his voice showed the pain at having missed so many years of his brother's life as well as his happiness about having found him again. For once he didn't care. Leon was the only family he had left and Rose was probably the one person he felt he didn't need to hide from how much he loved him.

The table had already been set so he now started transferring the various pots and pans to it, quite satisfied with his latest cooking endeavours and hoping food would have its usual calming effect on Rose

"Well, I am happy you found each other." She said, clearly at a loss on how to deal with additional complications. 

She quickly shed the rest of her armour, making a neat pile of it next to the kitchen counter and then settled on her favourite spot on the kitchen bench, now wearing nothing but a thin shirt and pants. Quietly Eric wondered if she would still so unselfconsciously wear next to nothing around him if she ever found out what it did to him.

To distract himself from his reaction to her beautiful curves he busied himself with serving her food and than sat down opposite her. Another thing she just did that another master would have considered ridiculously inappropriate - they shared nearly every meal. How could she on the one hand be so kind and sweet and perfect and on the other hand so infuriatingly rock-headed, Eric wondered.

He watched as she took a first bite, as her eyes drifted half closed and her mouth formed a tiny, bliss filled smile.

"That's really good." She purred.

"Did I get it right?" Eric asked, feeling stupidly proud. It was not some heroic deed. It was just cooking. But it still felt good.

"Actually better." Rose smiled at him, looking somewhat defeated. Maybe a kind of heroic deed after all, he had pacified the beast.

"You already know too well what I like." She frowned at him without much force. "Though I still haven't forgiven you for sneaking out of the suite against my orders. You really should have asked me about this."

Eric sighed softly. "I did, mistress."

"More than once." She added, spearing another meatball and generously coating it in glaze before popping the whole thing into her mouth.

"Three times, mistress." Eric answered and watched amused as Rose winced. He wasn't surprised when she didn't pursue that particular subject any further. Instead, they ate in silence.

Rose had emptied one plate of meatballs and was well on her way through a plate of fried ribs when she spoke again, this time managing to really surprise Eric.

"You will not leave this suite again until I have organized you some of these dreadful Dracon earrings." She said. "IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?"

Eric blinked at her, hardly able to believe his ears. She was allowing him to go out? Just like that?

"Does that mean that I MAY go out when you get me those?" he tried to make sure he really had understood.

Rose tiredly rubbed her face. She looked like she wanted to come up with a million conditions but then she just nodded. "Yes. But only during the day, and only within the palace. First thing tomorrow, I'll get you a combat teacher."

"Okay..." That was a decidedly uncomfortable thought. Eric had no idea whether a teacher would be able to recognize what fighting style he had originally been taught. The last thing he needed now was for her to find out more about his history.

"May I go and visit my brother, mistress?" he asked the question that really mattered.

Rose took her last piece of rib and took a huge bite. "I'd rather prefer if he came here. Then again..." She chewed thoughtfully. "No, actually not. But I'd much less like to see you running around out there before you can properly defend yourself."

Eric watched with a smile as she tore the last bits of meat from the rib. How could he not love this impossible woman. She glanced up at him and smiled back.

"Is there dessert?" she asked hopefully

"Of course, mistress."


	6. Chapter 6

Eric hurried up his steps as the doorbell insistently rang again. He didn't expect anybody. 

It was Rose's free afternoon. Earlier this week, the custom shelves she had ordered for what could only be called her armoury had arrived. Eric had been entrusted with the delicate task of setting them up and Rose had been looking forward for days now to being able to finally unpack all her toys, sort them properly put them away where they would be in easy reach.

She had been practically bouncing with nervous energy when she returned from work shortly after lunch and disappeared in what Eric privately called her 'toy room' with a huge box of chocolates under her arm.

The last few weeks with her had been good. She was slowly relaxing into her new job and now that he was allowed to leave the apartment he didn't feel so much like a caged animal anymore. With a smile, he touched the tiny earrings she had brought home for him to wear. Such small things and still they awarded more protection than any state-of-the-art energy shield. Or as much protection as Rose standing could offer, which was quite considerable since she was a Captain in the Consort's Malachite Guard.

Of course that didn't change much about Rose' paranoia, Eric mused as he arrived at the firmly locked door. Not expecting any visitors in Rose' case meant not letting anyone in.

With a soft sigh, he unlocked the lock that had come with the door and the additional high security one Rose had personally installed.

Still, he opened the door cautiously. Unannounced visitors rarely were a good thing. In the hallway two people were waiting, both of them wearing the glossy green Malachite Guard armour. 

One was a woman, whose luscious curves looked like they would burst from the confines of her armour any moment. With a flood of fire-red curls cascading down her back, Eric easily identified her as Lady Ashleigh Dracon, who Rose ranted about often and loudly after work. Even after subtracting fifty percent of her complaints, this particular noble seemed to have am amazing talent to find trouble and dive into it, head first.

The other was a man, his armour adorned with some extra highlights and ridges. He had pale skin and features of a beauty that Eric mentally classified as dangerous. His long dark hair was woven to a tight braid.

"Yes, how may I help you?" Eric asked politely, but without opening the door wide enough for them to come in. Maybe he wasn't as paranoid as Rose, but those two nobles were pure blooded Dracon and they were as dangerous as sharks.

The man put on a warm, open smile that first startled Eric and then made him even wearier. No predator should be allowed to have a smile like that. It also served to identify the man, though. From Rose' stories there was only one person among her colleagues in possession of such a smile and that was her boss. Not someone to keep waiting at the door, then.

"We were looking for Rose van der Meer... ?" the noble said.

"Apologies, my lord, you must be her Commander." Eric quickly changed his manners. "She didn’t mention she was expecting guests."

"Surprise visit." The noble's smile turned genuinely apologetic. "Would you please tell her that her commander and Captain Ashleigh are waiting to see her?"

"Of course, my lord."

For a moment Eric weighted Rose wrath at letting someone in against the wrath of the two Dracon at being left in the hallway. He quickly decided that Rose would see his point and opened the door wider.

"Allow me to show you to the terrace, I will fetch her for you." He said, leading the way and trying not to feel too creeped out by the fact that he was turning his back on two armed Dracon. 

He could feel their eyes on him and it made his neck itch. He only managed to breathe deeply again when he had safely escaped their presence. Eric couldn’t help but chuckle soundlessly as he made his way to the armory. Not too long ago, acting like a proper little slave would have made him snort with disgust. Now that he had Rose, protecting the status quo had somehow become much more important than his pride.

Rose was sitting on the floor of the room between several large crates and her box of chocolates, sorting different types of grenades and softly humming some tune. She looked so happy Eric took a moment just to look at her before he gently cleared his throat to announce his presence.

She looked up at him with the annoyed little frown he had expected.

"Mistress, you have guests." He explained his appearance.

"Why would I have guests?" she asked, her frown deepening.

"Your commander and the lady you keep calling ‘that fucking trouble magnet’ are here to see you, Mistress." Eric said, enjoyed the little wince her own words repeated by him had on her. "They did not give a reason."

"Leesha and Ashleigh?" With an unhappy grunt, Rose dropped the grenade she had been holding back into one of the crates. "Probably about the annual opera ball next month.... Did they seem upset?" she asked.

"Not that I noticed." Eric shrugged. "I asked them to wait on the terrace. Should I prepare some snacks for you, mistress?"

Snacks probably would not do anything for the two Dracon, but they would go a long way in pacifying Rose.

"Yes, please." Rose nodded. "Some fingerfood, you’ll think of something. And beer." She got up from the floor and dusted off some wood chips that had been used as stuffing in the crates. "No drinks before the food though," she then amended, "or else Ashleigh will be drunk before we’re finished talking."

"Yes, mistress." Eric didn't mind at all retreating to the kitchen and seeing as little as possible of the other nobles.

-

Rose tried to use the way from her armory to the terrace to straighten out her mood. Tonight really was not the time for surprise visits. She had been looking forward to sorting her arms properly ever since her equipment had arrived, and the complete chaos that came with living out of boxes had already started to make her all fidgety. 

But none of this was Leesha’s or Ashleigh’s fault. Lady Ashleigh had many faults, for sure, but not this one. If they were here, it most probably was something important to sort out, and it absolutely wouldn’t do to have her commanding officer see her in any other mood but professional. 

So by the time she stepped out of her suite onto the terrace, her smile was mostly genuine. That the terrace was a lovely spot filled with sunlight helped a lot as well. Located almost at the far end of one of the spokes of the inner palace, on one of the top levels facing towards the main spire, the place had a magnificent view of the both the gardens on top of the spoke as well as the park in the public hexant below. She could even see Emperor Hyperion’s roses from here. At first, Rose had wondered why in the Empire she had been assigned rooms that far off of anything, really. But with every passing day, she more and more had to admit that it probably was one of the most beautiful places of all the palace. 

Major Leesha and Ashleigh were standing a little away, underneath the huge illeiya tree where Eric had parked the barbecue, chatting. Both were still wearing their armoured uniforms, so they must have come here right after their shift. 

Rose walked up to them and was just about to say hello as Ashleigh cut her off. 

"Rose! Darling!" she called out, beaming with mock anger, wriggling her finger at Rose's face. "You NAUGHTY girl!"

For a heartbeat, Rose was completely at a loss, and judging by her commander’s expression, Leesha had no clue either what his slightly unhinged cousin was going on about this time. 

"What?" Rose asked cautiously amused.

"You NAUGHTY girl", Ashleigh chided her again, still wriggling her finger. "Thought you could keep all the fun for yourself, did you?"

"Ashleigh, honey, what are you talking about?" Leesha asked firmly.

Commander Leesha knew Ashleigh since many years, and he and Rose were quite in agreement that she occasionally was more than just a little eccentric. Though neither of them was entirely sure where the wind was blowing from in this particular moment. 

At least she deigned to notice him. 

"She's got a real Andragor!" Ashleigh exclaimed, her face flushed with excitement. "Old enough to be born before the war! And on top he's soooo cute!"

Rose’s face switched from insecurity to barely veiled hostility within seconds. The only person Ashleigh had met in her quarters so far was Eric, and whatever that woman was seeing in him, she would not let her near her precious slave.

"An Andragor, really?" Leesha asked, wondering how to calm his cousin who was bobbing up and down with excitement. "That's quite... exotic."

An Andragor. Only now Rose really registered what Ashleigh was so excited about. She thought Eric was a former Noble, member of the House that had been supplanted by the Castella these days. What a ridiculous notion. 

"That isn't exotic, that's incredible!" Ashleigh grinned at Rose happily, completely missing Rose's mood. "Oh my god, Rose, where did you get such a magnificent specimen?"

"Dear, what are you talking about?" Rose asked, surprised at her calm and angry at the cold warning that she couldn’t suppress. 

"Huh?" Ashleigh blinked at Rose. "Your slave, that huge one... Eric, I think. Oh he's so gorgeous. How much did you pay for him?" she asked in her best confidential tone.

"Three credits. He was a special offer." Rose replied icily, her thoughts racing. It couldn’t be. Eric an Andragor? Impossible. It couldn’t be. It mustn’t. "And no, he's not an Andragor, whatever he has told you."

"Of course he is!" Ashleigh exclaimed, still completely oblivious to the danger she was putting herself into. "I mean, Rose, you just have to look at him, the eyes, the scowl and that BODY! If that's not a true blooded Andragor I'm a toad. And actually he didn't say anything..."

Could she be right? Sure, her slave's looks didn't exactly rule out such a claim. But a noble from an extinct house? Everything inside Rose tried to deny any justification to that though, and yet Lady Ashleigh did have a feeling for things like that. It would explain where Eric had gotten his military education. And his manners, well, Rose had already long ago been sure that he wasn't merely a mason. 

What made her utterly nervous was the fact that Ashleigh apparently considered an enslaved former noble a delicious treat. And Rose could quite lively imagine what kind of treatment a former enemy in such a situation would receive. She would rather kill Ashleigh than have her ever touch Eric.

"Hello toad", she finally said icy, her stance a calm warning.

"Oh come on! Three credits...", Ashleigh replied laughing, utterly untouched by Rose's cold reaction. "An Andragor that age with those looks is easily worth about 30.000 credits! Much more in a private auction." 

Probably at the thought of Eric kneeling in front of her in heavy chains, the young Dracon shivered violently. Almost groaning, Ashleigh added: "He's absolutely fucking gorgeous."

This was just... too much. Suddenly, all her worries concerning Eric got a hundred times worse. Andragor... could that really be? Could Eric have kept this secret from her all the time? 

"I..." she started, but her racing thoughts just didn’t allow any proper sentences out. She had to talk to Eric. "I'll be right back." 

Turning on her heels, she rushed off, both to search for her slave and get some seconds to think. A living Andragor...

"What's wrong with her?" she could hear Ashleigh ask behind her, and Leesha’s calm but firm voice answering her. 

"Love, you do have a talent for saying the absolutely wrong thing at the worst of times."

-

"Eric, we have to talk."

In the months since he had been bought, Eric had never heard that tone from his mistress. It wasn't just harsh, it was icy and - what was more important - her barely suppressed anger clearly was directed at him. Immediately he ducked his head even though he had no idea what he might have done to incur her wrath, carefully putting down the kitchen knife he had been using to cut up bread for some snacks.

"Yes, mistress." he accepted her command meekly.

With a few steps Rose was next to him, grabbed him by the arm and roughly shoved him against the wall. His mistress stood in front of him, hands firmly planted on her hips, bristling with anger, glaring up at him for all she was worth.

"Andragor?!" she hissed accusingly.

The word hit Eric like a fist to the stomach, but he managed to keep his reaction down to a slow blink. So she knew. He had wondered when she would find out. It wasn't that hard a conclusion to come by, after all. He wasn't sure why it had her so angry, though. With measured meekness he lowered his gaze to his own feet.

"Mistress?" he asked calmly. Whatever is was she was raging about, she would probably tell him before she punished him. At least he could hope she would.

"Don't you try to play me for a fool again!" she spat, punching him in the ribs with her tiny hard fist. "How could you do this to me?"

"How could I do what to you, mistress?" Eric asked back with all the calm he could muster in his current situation.

"Not telling me about your origin!" his mistress exclaimed. "You're a goddamn delicacy to those Dracons out there, and they can smell you a mile away!"

She was of course exaggerating again, but what she said was not news to him. He still remembered all to well what had happened to his mother. After all, that was the precise reason he kept quiet about his heritage. At least why he hadn't told her from the start. There had been a good chance she would have sold him to some other noble for a hefty profit. She still might. He was a slave, and even though she treated him well, he didn't have any illusions about the fact that he still was a commodity to be bought and sold. And he just couldn’t bear the thought of loosing her. 

"I'd never even have let you out of my sight if I had known!" she growled, looking like she was close to tears. "You fool!"

"Mistress..." Eric said softly, wanting to comfort her and knowing what a foolish notion it was at the same time. "Why should I have told?" he tried to explain. "My name is in my past, it's... gone, I'm a slave, no more."

-

"But you WERE, for heavens' sake!", Rose replied, feeling tears of anger and frustration and fear much to close to her surface. "It is in your goddamn genes, and it won't go away! They can SMELL it!"

Of course, Eric didn't react. What should he have said? That he was sorry? What for, for his family losing the goddamn last war? 

Giving a soft sob, Rose gave up on acting composed. This was already a mess anyway, and there was no point in pretending she was a proper mistress, anyway. Dropping her head against Eric's chest, she just leaned there for a moment, comforted by her slave's warm and gentle presence. Tears were now flowing down her face freely, silent little streams born in too much worry and that terrible feeling of helplessness. Finally, she gathered herself up sufficiently, whispering: 

"What am I to do now...?"

"I am a slave, mistress", Eric replied, his own voice suddenly rather brittle. "What happens to me is not in my power to decide."

"Now you notice? NOW?", she replied, hitting his chest with her fist just to do anything that would keep her from screaming out loud. "They're already after you, how could you ever think they wouldn't notice?"

"I have always known that!" Suddenly, her slave’s voice was harsh, and Rose stood up straight again, blinking at Eric through her tears. "And it doesn't matter who I used to be, I am at their mercy and at your mercy."

Without warning, he grabbed Rose's wrists, holding her immobile while he stared into her eyes:

"Why do you think I didn't care if I lived or died? Because the life I had was dear to me? What would it have changed had you known? Would you have sold me for a profit? Or would you have locked me away? I'd still just be a slave!"

Almost shoving her away, he stopped his raging, breathing hard. Then he dropped to his knees, lowering his head before he whispered: 

"Do as you see fit."

How on all the planets could a slave be that complicated? How could anybody make such a mess of her feelings? Why couldn't he just feel touched by the fact that she was crying because of him? Oh he was such a horrible slave!  
Angry at her own loss of composure, Rose wiped the tears off her face. She took her time to calm down again before she firmly said: 

"Oh yes, I will." 

And then, she turned on her heel, leaving the kitchen with all the noble bearing she could still come up with. 

-

Oh the joy! Now she was even more angry at him! 

In silent rage Eric hit the floor with his fist as hard as he could, trying to cling to that pain.

Why did he even care if she was angry? Why had he ever allowed himself to care for her at all? Why did he have to be a slave and still be stuck with the pride of his heritage? Consuming passion mixed with a sense of honor were rarely a good mix, but those were the things House Andragor had been renowned for and - gods help him - he was cursed with them as well.

It hurt. His pride, her pain. He couldn't say which hurt more.

And he was still just a slave.

-

When Rose returned to the terrace, Leesha and Ashleigh were still standing there, looking down on the park below in amiable silence. 

Rose’s emotions were still roiling high, especially as she hadn't yet figured out how to tell Ashleigh that Eric was definitely and without any discussion off limits to her. But despite everything, she managed a crisp greeting.

"Major." Turning towards Ashleigh who mustered her with a genuinely curious look, she said: "Dear, I am really sorry, but I've got no idea how you picked up the notion that Eric was Andragor."

Ashleigh's face remained unmoved for a long moment, only her eyes blinking a few times while she obviously wondered how to deal with Rose's most obviously not honest answer. Finally, she managed a smile and said gently, like explaining something to a bright but rather stubborn child:

"Rose, you can't hide what he is. If you can't even hide it from me, you certainly won't be able to hide it from others." Gently touching her colleague's shoulder, she added: "I won't touch what is yours without your permission, but others might not be as understanding." 

How in all the Empire could Ashleigh be so kind and understanding now? Rose was sure that Leesha must have had a few stern words with her while Rose had been inside, but still. What a terrible woman!

"Be assured that I am your friend and you will have my help any way you may need it." Ashleigh added with a friendly smile as the still was no reaction visible on Rose’s face. 

Looking from her colleague to Leesha who hadn't said a word but smiled approvingly, Rose fought for words. Inside her, there was a fraction almost hysterically demanding to deny everything that concerned Eric to protect him. On the other hand, she knew just as well that she was fighting a lost war there. She couldn't make Eric's genes go away whether she publicly acknowledged the fact that he had been Andragor or not. 

And the two Dracon seemed to be her friends, offering support, as much as her ingrained distrust towards their house tried to make her doubt the fact. But they were also her colleagues, and so in the end, Rose's professionalism won out against her distrust. At least, nominally so. 

Still at a loss of words, she nodded in acknowledgment of her colleague's offer of support, bowing deeply. But she still didn't manage to speak openly about the things that had happened between her and Eric. Or hadn’t happened. Goddamn, this was complicated.

"I don't know where I might need help, but I would appreciate your recommendations", she said in perfect indirect understatement, trying at least to sound like a proper noble. 

At that display of non-commitment Ashleigh looked first at Leesha, than at Rose and than at Leesha again, obviously searching for a clue on what to say next.

Leesha came to her rescue. "You bought him so he's yours as long as no one more powerful decides to take him." he told Rose calmly. "I will see what I can do about that, so really, there’s no reason to be so upset, dear."

It was so hard to believe that this man was a Dracon and yet her colleague and friend, just trying to help her. All her life Rose had been trained to rely on no-one but herself. All her life had depended on that very fact.

It had taken her long enough to accept Eric in her life. It would still be quite a long way until she was able to accepts friends as well. But at least she was trying.

She bowed somewhat stiffly. "I'm not used to being so exposed... At least, not without the option of killing all those who stare at me."

Leesha somehow managed not to chuckle and instead smiled amiably. "I guess we all have to get used to be a team, eh?"

Rose sighed softly and nodded. "Please excuse my tantrum." she said, genuinely trying for a shy smile for Ashleigh.

Which of course was an open invitation to Leesha's lively cousin. She wrapped Rose in a spontaneous bear hug. "Happens to the best of us when we're in love, dear!" Ashleigh exclaimed cheerfully.

Leesha quickly hid his amused smile behind his hand. 

Was it that obvious? Were they already talking about them behind her back? What else hadn’t she noticed? 

But despite everything, she managed something like a smile towards Ashleigh. 

"Thanks, dear!" she pressed out, freeing herself with a minimum of violence.

Oblivious to the other woman's discomfort Ashleigh smiled at her warmly. "You're welcome!"

As much as it hurt Rose to admit, Ashleigh had put it to the point. She was in love with Eric, in love with her slave. Her stubborn, stupid, wonderful slave. There was no way denying it any longer. Especially not to herself. 

Which meant there was important work to be done. Now.

“Commander, Ashleigh, I am really sorry,” Rose said firmly after she had gathered herself sufficiently. “But you can see this is about the worst possible moment. I am afraid I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on whatever you have come here for. Please, let us do this tomorrow.”

“Of course, Rose.” Leesha replied instantly. He even managed to quell Ashleigh’s protest with a single sharp look before she had even opened her mouth. It was really hard to believe that he was a Dracon. “Please, take your time. We can just as well sort out the scheduling for the Opera Ball tomorrow.”

As simply as that, he tipped his imaginary hat and left, gently but insistently taking Ashleigh with him.

Rose was furious at herself for delivering this entirely unprofessional appearance, but sometimes thing just went wrong. A real professional was still able to pinpoint the real priorities even in the deepest mess. Even if it meant throwing her considerable pride over board. 

But with the way she had left Eric, there remained a lot to sort out between the two of them. And there would be no better time than now, the young van der Meer told herself. If she didn’t force herself through that talk right now, she would only come up with a million reasons to postpone this until the suns faded. 

So she left the terrace once again in a hurry, heading for the kitchen where she had left Eric.


	7. Chapter 7

Rose found Eric sitting on the ground in the kitchen, right where she had left him, his face impassive as he seemed to wonder what to do. Then he demurely knelt, his gaze fixed on the feet of his owner as it befitted an obedient slave. 

Sighing softly, Rose wondered how she could put this gently, to find words that were no useless innuendo but at the same time wouldn't be too blunt to scare him. But there was just no way to say this differently, was there? 

Gently, she took his chin in her hand, forcing him to look into her eyes.

"Eric? Look at me..."

The guarded look Rose's slave gave her suddenly seemed so familiar to her, and it took her only a single heartbeat to recognize the look as her own. She was the same when it came to her feelings, reserved and guarded by a lifetime in a cruel world that made trust a luxury too dangerous to afford. 

But this had to end at some point; a life like this wasn't a life she wanted to live. So something would have to give, and in this case, it was her turn to overcome her patterns. 

"I...", she started hesitantly, the unfamiliar words feeling awkward on her tongue. "I have to apologize."

In front of her, Eric's face twitched with the unexpected revelation, but still his impassive mask didn't falter. 

"I...", Rose continued, fighting to get out the words with more effort than ever before in her life. Noticing that she had sweat on her forehead, she nervously wiped her face, laughing softly at her struggle. "Gods, this is hard."

Finally, she gathered all her courage and rushed out what she had come here to say: 

"Eric, I love you."

Whatever reaction she might have expected from Eric, Rose hadn't envisioned him just slowly closing his eyes. When he opened them again, he whispered: "You love me."

"Yes." 

Having confessed her feelings, and yet still sitting here without any respective confession from Eric made Rose feel like a fool. For a long moment, they just stared at each other in silence. Then, just a split second before Rose was about to turn away, Eric almost lurched forward, grabbing her face in his hands that never before had seemed so huge. Without a word, he kissed her, passionate and full of longing. 

And his kiss spoke far more eloquently of his feelings than any words in the world could have. Like a wave, the emotions washed over Rose, longing and desire and admiration so intense the young woman felt her knees go weak for the first time in her life. 

What a surprisingly pleasant sensation that was, she wondered, if that is how Andragor kiss, it is no small wonder they are such a sought-after commodity. Grinning inwardly, Rose added to herself: 'But this one is all mine...'

-

She loved him. Against all odds and probabilities she loved him. And as if that wasn't mind boggling enough, she had told him so. Quiet, reserved, aloof Rose had looked at him all insecure with her eyes full of fear and longing and said it.

Eric still felt the word echo in his mind.

But most of him was absorbed entirely in kissing her. He had wanted this since the first night they had fallen asleep in the same bed, since she had felt her body against his. He had been so sure it would never happen that it felt to him like a miracle to taste her lips.

He met no resistance, so he drew her against him, her body flush against his. One arm slung around her waist, the other hand buried in her hair, he kissed her hungrily, his tongue seeking and finding entrance to her mouth. His passion boiling inside him like a raging fire he didn't even try to control himself. 

He felt her shudder against him, her hands seeking an opening in his simple clothes like tiny creatures with a will of their own. She was pressing against him with as much hunger as he held her.

He felt the world around them fall away till the only thing that existed were both their heartbeats, the kiss joining them. And still something tucked on his attention, warning him.

With a loud gasp he finally broke away from Rose, almost forcefully pushing her away far enough that they could look at each other.

Her eyes remained closed, and for a moment longer she was kissing empty air, seeking to reclaim his lips. Then she opened her eyes slowly to look at him with angry reproach. "What?"

Eric's arm remained around her and he was hard pressed to find words, looking at her flushed and panting and so... willing, available, loveable. 

Sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her off to her bedroom came as natural to him as befitted his heritage. Her startled little laugh was music in his ears as she hid her face against his chest. It felt wonderful to hold her like this, protectively, just like he had wanted to so often.

-

Rose's mind was slightly fogged with overflowing hormones, but still she was acute enough to watch with slight amazement as Eric closed the door behind him with his heel, all the while carrying Rose in his arms and not even swaying slightly. It was so odd to think that he apparently shared her feelings, and that they were about to make love. Now, here, in her very own bedroom, in the very bed they had shared so often already.

She really hadn't envisioned her first time to happen like this, but then again, she hadn’t thought much about that anyway. And Rose sure wouldn't have complained. Gently, Eric laid her down onto the bed, taking great care to make her feel as comfortable as possible.

"I... I don't know...", she giggled girlishly under her breath, insecure at what to do next. Eric was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at her with admiration in his dark eyes. Still a little indecisive, she reached out to him, whispering: "Come here..."

Eric knelt down onto the bed, lying next to her. Still, there was this intoxicating mix of deep affection, longing and raging passion in his eyes, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. 

"Rose...", he whispered, making her name sound like the most perfect endearment in the worlds. 

It was silly and so terribly clichéd that she couldn't suppress another soft laugh. He was so beautiful, so gentle and strong at the same time that her breath caught every time he really looked at him. Snuggling closer to him, she kissed him softly, barring her passion a little to be able to get to know him, to learn how his skin felt, to memorize the curve of his lips so she could forever trace them in her mind. 

But she was intent on going further than just kissing tonight. She had ignored her desires for so long already, and she would call herself a fool if she didn't go and got it now. Gently, she took Eric's hands, setting it onto her chest right between her breasts. 

"Touch me"; she whispered, once again leaning closer towards him. 

-

That was an invitation he didn't need to hear twice. To be here with Rose, alone and at last allowed to love her - there was nothing he wanted more than to touch her, show her how much he wanted her.

It was hard to contain his hunger. What he really wanted was to rip off her clothes and devour her whole. But he somehow managed just to sneak a trembling hand inside her shirt, cupping her small breasts gently. He leaned over her, kissing her again, then started unbuttoning her blouse.

For a moment she tensed but then he exhaled slowly, closing her eyes and leaning back. To see her spread out like that, so trusting and so achingly beautiful was almost then Eric could bear. He parted her blouse and pushed up her shirt till her milky breasts were exposed to him.

How often had she walked around unclad after her showers, seeming completely oblivious to what that had been doing to him? Now she was his. He nuzzled her throat, kissing her soft skin, drowning in her scent.

She answered with a moan, her fingers trailing across his chest like tiny butterflies. Touching here and there, arousing him even more.

He slowly worked his way down to her pretty breasts with his kisses, then flicked one of her nipples with his tongue before he gently sucked on it. Her taste and scent were muddling his brain so much it was hard to hang on to reason, but he didn't want to rush this either. Still one of his hands wandered lower, starting to unfasten her pants.

She was breathing erratically now, shivering under his caresses. Smiling down at her he sneaked one arm around her under her blouse, then drew her up so he was able to push off her blouse and shirt at the same time. That coaxed a silvery laugh of pure delight from her.

He kept his arm around her so she was arched against him, her firm breasts and belly showing off most advantageously. Again he kissed her breasts, then moved lower to kiss her belly and tickle her belly button with his tongue.

-

Laughing in delight, Rose felt silly and benign at the same time. This was just the way she had hoped it to be, wonderful, maddening, unexpected and perfect. And Eric...

Looking at the man holding her, she smiled again, starting to tug at her slave's tunic. She wanted to touch him, feel his skin, and touch him with indecency and all the fun her lust-filled mind promised. 

He stopped kissing her then, smiling at her with utter infatuation. Carefully, he laid her down onto the bed again, before he pulled the tunic over his head in a single motion. At the sight of his unclad chest, a hot wave of desire washed through her, making her want to growl.   
Not that she could actually have growled, not in a million years. But the image made her giggle again, laughing gently, as she raked her fingernails across the soft hair on his chest. 

Looking up at her slave, she felt like floating on pink clouds. Well, not her slave, she amended inwardly. Her lover. However things would look like tomorrow morning, right now Eric was her lover, nothing else. 

Her lover returned her infatuated look, his eyes sparkling with stars that probably matched the ones in her own eyes. 

"I want you, Eric", she whispered, surprised at the urgency in her own voice. "So much..."

This time, her lover growled less then gently, his passion now finally ablaze. For a split second, Rose wondered if she would be able to control him any longer, but then again, she didn't want to, did she? 

So she only leaned back, closing her eyes as Eric more or less ripped her remaining clothes off her body, whispering: 

"Yes...."


	8. Chapter 8

Outside, the world still lay in darkness, the only illumination coming from the countless lights of the city. From where Eric was sitting on the comfortable kitchen bench these lights were invisible, though, all he could see through the window was the patchy blanket of low hanging clouds that was a constant feature of P2. The lights from the city reflected from the clouds oddly, making them look like they had a life of their own.

But Eric's attention was neither on the clouds nor on the cooking book that rested in his lap, mostly forgotten. His attention was focused inward, trying to make sense of the turmoil of emotion that was still raging in him.

Too much had happened in too short a time for his mind to switch off and slip into sleep. Loving Rose had unsettled the delicate peace he had made with his fate. He had wanted her all that time, yes, but it hadn't even been a remote possibility that she might share the feeling. That she would not only want him, use him as a slave - which he had been ready to accept, as disgusting as it was that he had sunk so low - but that she would love him, that had never entered his thoughts.

So her admission had cut through all his carefully laid defenses and brought to the surface a person he had believed dead. He had so thoroughly buried all his passion, his pride, his hunger for life that he had forgotten what it felt like.

Making love to her had felt like breathing freely again after a century of being buried alive. Lying with her afterwards, holding her protectively like a lover should hold his beloved, not like a slave might lie with his master - that had broken barriers he was now hard pressed to re-erect.

And he knew full well he had to build them anew. No matter how much Rose might love him, no matter how much he loved her - he was still a slave. They might be able to live their dream of love for a while, maybe even forever, should she never marry. But that was a thing between the two of them. To anybody else he still was no more than a thing. And he would have to act the part or he would endanger just that dream he so cherished.

But his blood ran hot just thinking about another man, another noble touching his Rose, honor and pride demanded he keep her safe, away from harm, some ridiculous part of him even wondered if he could get her to wear a dress occasionally, trying to bring out the beautiful woman in her for all to see. What a silly notion and how strange to realize how deeply ingrained the things he had learned in his early childhood still were, after such a long life of slavery.

But she was still Rose, the assassin, Rose, Captain of the Malachite Guard, Rose, strong willed woman, Rose, noble of House van der Meer. She would not react well to him trying to put her on a leash or a pedestal. And really - she was the Rose he had fallen in love with so he shouldn't even want to.

After they had made love, they hadn't spoken much, just held each other. There was much that should be said but not just then. Neither of them had wanted to break the peace and quiet that had comfortably settled between the two of them. 

Going to sleep with Rose had been utterly familiar as he had done so every night since she owned him. And so utterly strange at the same time as she snuggled against him, as she almost shyly kissed him good night.

With her in his arms he had lain awake for nearly an hour, brooding over the bright light that Rose was in his life and about the encroaching darkness that was the rest of it.

Finally he had slipped her out of his embrace, left the bedroom and come to the kitchen. He had intended to read to take his mind of everything but after only a few lines he had realized that thinking was the thing he really needed to do.

So he did.

-

When she awoke, Rose for a moment had to wonder what had broken her usually very sound sleep. Nothing seemed to be wrong, none of her trained senses telling her that she was under attack, no sneaking steps, no smell of gas. But still, she felt restless, and only as she turned towards where she expected Eric to be in her bed and found his pillow empty she knew why. 

Smiling fondly at the memory of the last evening, the young woman cuddled around her lover's pillow for a moment. It had been complete madness, but a wonderful one. He loved her, and his love was a golden light in her heart. 

Of course, it had been utterly irresponsible to make love to him. It would create a hell of a lot of problems that she was no longer untouched if her parents ever decided to remember that she had already been promised to another noble when she was only a child. 

But with a mental shrug, she brushed off those thoughts. She would deal with the problems as soon as they really appeared. Now, she was in love, and she was going to cherish every moment of it. 

Which again brought up the question of her lover's current location. Still smiling, she slipped into her dressing robe, her bare feet hardly making any sound on the precious wooden floor. 

It didn't take her long to find Eric in the kitchen, the room he most considered to be his territory, sitting at the table, a cooking book in front of him, his eyes thoughtfully staring out into the spectral clouds that reflected the city lights down below. 

He was beautiful, even though his face didn't look as if he was thinking happy thoughts. Once again, she realized just how much she loved him. 

"Can't sleep?", she asked softly, leaning in the doorway only a few steps away from him. 

Startled out of his thoughts, Eric looked up in surprise, and for a second, she feared that he would slip into his 'obedient slave' persona once again. But then he smiled, the shyness of his gesture probably matching her own. 

"Rose...", he replied, his eyes shining. 

"Hey", she said just as softly, then she walked up to him, cuddling onto his lap. It was so wonderful to feel him, his presence so indescribably soothing. 

Gently, Eric wrapped his arms around her petite frame, nuzzling her at the base of her neck. For a long while, they just cuddled, happy with the touch of the other, cherishing their lover's closeness. But then Rose turned her gaze back out of the window as well, calmly asking: 

"What's keeping you up, love?"

"Thinking", her lover replied softly and unusually direct.

"Thinking about what?"

"About you."

Now that brought a startled laugh out of the young Noble before she asked with a wide smile: 

"And, did you come to any conclusion?"

"I love you."

Hearing a direct answer from Eric yet again made her blink before it came to her what he had just said. Calmly, she nodded in agreement, snuggling against his neck. 

"Yes", she replied, hoping her voice would carry over how much she felt what she said. "And I love you."

Still Eric held his arms around her, his chin resting lightly on her head. He didn't say anything, but Rose didn't mind. The important things all were said. Almost playfully, she started stroking her lover's belly, smiling at the sensation. 

"I love you", she repeated, just to hear her voice say it again, to make it feel more real to her.

-

Eric sighed softly, gently squeezing Rose against him. It felt good to hold her, good to hear her say that she loved him, good to know that she was happy, content. It brought a rueful smile to his face that complicated, paranoid, overprotective Rose for once was the one who managed to just relax and enjoy the moment while he kept thinking and worrying.

She snuggled against him but when she spoke again some seriousness had returned to her voice. "No more secrets between us, yes?" she said.

If only things could be that simple between the two of them. But there were still many things Eric was not willing to tell her. And just as many things she would be better off not knowing. But how to best tell her that?

He looked down at her thoughtfully, once more marveling at the fact that such a slip of a girl could hold such power over him in every possible way. Not only that she owned him and was quite capable of besting him in any combat, she also held his heart in her slim hand.

"Are you sure you want to know all of it?" he asked softly.

"Yes," she answered, "the Dracon have a saying: 'Only what you do not know can kill you.' And as little as I think of them, this one is true. No more surprises."

Eric closed his eyes, surveying the landscape of his memories in silence. So many nasty surprises lurking there, too many to burden a lover with, too many that would better forever rest forgotten. And too many dark thoughts of what the future held as well. Suddenly the behavior expected of a slave seemed a good thing: don't think, just be.

He was drawn back to the present as Rose gently touched his cheek. "You don't have to tell me now, love." she said, sensing some of his pain but of course unable to tell how deep it ran.

He tried to fight down all the dark memories that his emotional turmoil had brought to the surface but he was sure some of it was still showing on his face. "So what now?" he asked.

"Is there anything important I should know? More relatives that could resurface?" Rose asked back. "Another name I should know? Somebody I should... take professional care of?"

Eric clamped down hard on the response that could have brought. People he wished to see dead, mutilated, tortured, punished for all the things they had done to him, done to Leon, done to his family. There was a sea of faces staring back at him. Nothing that Rose ever needed to know about.

"They are all dead." he said flatly.

"Even those who killed them?" Rose pressed on. "No lose ends?"

His mother. His mother's face when she was raped. Not a single tear marring her perfect self control despite the pain and utter humiliation. The face of the noble who had raped her...

Eric turned away from Rose, again looking out the window, searching for some sort of calm in the rolling clouds. Still it took him a moment till he was able to answer without sounding too broken. "Let it rest." was all he said.

"Whenever one of the ghosts stirs, I want to know immediately." Rose said grimly. "That's an order."

It didn't matter that she was just trying to protect both of them, the choice of words stung like the kiss of the whip.

"Yes, mistress." Eric replied quietly, obediently.

-

At this reply, anger suddenly flared in Rose. Not really willing to let this slip, she gently slapped Eric, putting on a frown she hoped would make her look sweet instead of furious. 

"Don't mistress me when we're alone", she said, searching his eyes. "Please. It's hard enough on us already."

"But that's what it's all about, isn't it?", her lover replied evenly, his eyes not really offering an answer. "You are still my mistress."

It stung. It was true, of course, but it hurt none the less. It was the basic dilemma of their relationship, and it would never go away. But then again, maybe Eric hadn't put it that right.

"I am your owner", Rose corrected him firmly, trying to make a point of the difference. "And I'm your lover. Among the two of us, that makes us equal. Towards the outside, I am the one who talks, the one who decides. But neither makes me your mistress. That sounds... cruel." 

He laid his hand against her cheek his tone so gently patronizing in her ears she wanted to bite him. 

"Rose, I won't let love blind me or make me hope for things beyond my reach, I am a slave and I will always feel it."

But again, he was right. As much as she would have wished otherwise. 

"Wish I could change anything about that...", she whispered, silently wondering if there was any hope for them if they couldn't even spend their first night together without this subject coming up.

"I guess, I am as happy as I can be", her lover replied softly, kissing her forehead. 

That wasn't enough, Rose all but cursed inwardly. And seeing how Eric readjusted his slave guards on his wrists so they fitted more comfortably gave an additional sting to her sentiment. He hadn't even noticed he had touched them. 

"Then I will be as well", she replied, returning her lover's kiss despite everything. She loved him, and that was the one thing that counted. 

Once more, they kissed, their lips finding each other almost instinctively. But there also was an increasing intensity in Eric's kisses, a fire rekindled that made Rose blink in astonishment. 

"Hungry again already?", she asked with a grin and a slight blush. 

"Considering you have kept me starving since the day you bought me...", her lover replied, his eyes suddenly dark and deep and filled with a lure she had never consciously seen in any human before. 

"Well, then I assume you've got a lot of catching up to do." Her reply was husky, both with the bad conscience that she actually had kept him in an awkward situation for such a long time and with the realization that her body wouldn't mind sharing the blankets with him once again. Mostly to cover her own inexperience, she kissed him again, before she asked: "Shall we move to the bedroom?"

Instead of a reply, Eric only growled throatily. Without a word, he nudged her robe open, kissing the tips of her bared breasts. His touch was so intense, sending waved of tiny shivers all over her body that made her want to giggle and growl at the same time.

"Didn't you ever notice how much I wanted you...?", he asked between two kisses, his breath like a warm touch to her chest.

"I...", she started, now finally unable to hold in a girlish giggle. "At first, I didn't want it to be true myself. Nobles like slaves, they don't love them. And then, it was, well, I was afraid that it was only wishful thinking, does that make sense?"

"Not really...", Eric replied, taking his time to continue kissing her breasts before he answered.

The whole situation was utterly indecent, Rose suddenly realized, and the image of seeing her sitting on the lap of her slave like that, undressed and aroused, made her blush and giggle again. This truly was no way for a noble to act. In the kitchen, of all places!

"We really should move to the bedroom...", she urged softly, but Eric only grinned at her indecently.

"Should we now? And why's that?"

"We can't... stay here", Rose replied, her voice tilting with embarrassment and disbelief.

"Who is going to throw us out, it's your kitchen..."

"Oh my god, Eric", she breathed out, finally turning crimson as she realized where this was heading to. "You're not really suggesting we..."

"Rose..."; her lover replied, his smile wide and genuinely amused by her squirmy attitude. "For a trained assassin you can be rather shy..."

Oh how could he be that insensitive, the young noble wondered silently, snapping:

"What's got killing people to do with... with... doing things like this in the kitchen?"

Suddenly looking up from her breasts that until then had taken up most of Eric's attention, he looked at Rose, asking: 

"Things like this...?"

He made it sound as if he thought her fatally retarded, at least it seemed that way to her. How could he only make her be so direct about this? Were all men like that?

"I.. well, yes. Sex." Once again, she felt a faint blush creep up her cheeks, but at least she had spoken it out. "It's something completely different. What if someone sees in on us? Through the window? Or something..."

-

Rose did look rather worried and nervous and now that Eric considered all of her and not just her extremely pretty breasts - rather innocent. Thinking about what he knew about her house and putting her age into the equation there was a good chance she was not very experienced.

Silently he chided himself for being so oblivious. But then again he had been pretty absorbed by his own raging passion which she hadn't really done anything to calm.

Gently he brushed her cheek with his thumb, nudging her with his nose. "Ssh..." he tried to reassure her, "whatever you are comfortable with, love."

That brought a cute little frown to her brow that almost made Eric grin. If there was one thing she truly hated it was being patronized. "Yeah, whatever," she replied just a tiny bit grumpy, "I am just... it's all very new to me."

"So I am beginning to notice..." Eric said, now unable to suppress a smile.

The frown on her brow deepened and her eyes gained that dark gleam that made her so incredibly - well, there was no other word - hot. "I hate being inexperienced..." she grumbled, oblivious to the effect she was having on him.

"I have to admit it's extremely enticing..." With his smile growing into a grin, Eric leaned down again and kissed her belly button, taking his time to tickle it with his tongue.

That seemed to appease her as she was smirking somewhat embarrassed as he looked up at her again. "I see..." she leaned her head against his shoulder. "At least I got an experienced teacher..."

"Well..." Eric answered wryly and somewhat amused, "I may not be as experienced as my brother but I think we both consider that an advantage..."

Rose laughed out loud, blushing and shuddering at the same time. "Heavens, yes! What a thought..."

Eric planted a last firm kiss onto one of Rose's pretty breasts, then he slipped out from under her. No sex in the kitchen didn't mean no sex after all. Before she could decide to complain he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. "Bedroom it is..."

She squealed loudly, making his heart jump with happiness, the equal mixture of outrage and anticipation so utterly female and Rose he would have fallen in love with her again right then if he hadn't already been totally lost to her anyway.


	9. Chapter 9

Sweeping the halls of the imperial palace’s Aroona chantry might have seemed like a lowly task to some. But Lenny didn’t really see it as such. It was a job as necessary as any other, and neither hard nor unpleasant. He liked working in silence, with only the occasional priest or visitor walking by. And in his time, he had done a lot of things less comforting than sweeping hallways, for that matter.

Within the giant complex of the palace, so ripe with politics and intrigue, the chantry was a small refuge of safety and sanity, in his eyes. And it was a work that calmed his mind, distracted him a little from the thoughts about his brother that constantly nagged him these days.

He didn’t have to look up to recognize Mother Sophia walking by, her swift, busy little steps as tiny as her feet. She was his Mother Superior, head of the chantry and responsible for all those working under her. Which meant a lot when talking about Aroona priests. 

“Are you alright, darling?”

Lenny hadn’t even noticed that she had stopped right after having passed him by. Apparently, she had noticed that something was on his mind. And even though he was nothing but a slave, she stopped in whatever it was she was doing to check up on him. Because that’s what Aroona did. 

“Huh?” he quipped, a little startled. “I am fine, please forgive me dawdling.”

“Nonsense.” Waving off his remark, she walked up to him, scrutinizing him carefully. “I can see there is something bothering you.”

Was it that obvious? Lenny wondered what it was that Mother Sophia was sensing in him. He had learned enough about calming his mind since he had been bought by the temple, but apparently that wasn’t good enough to fool Mother Sophia. 

He didn’t answer immediately, searching for words, slowly getting a little nervous under her firm gaze. Mother Sophia was wearing her spectacles again, fine golden chains dangling from each side of her face like oddly misplaced jewelery. Most probably, she had been reading when suddenly a thought struck her mind, and she had rushed off to do something about it when Lenny diverted her attention yet again. 

“I’ve met my brother,” he started explaining, a little embarrassed that he hadn’t told her earlier. “You remember, the one who was sold when he tried to protect me?”

“You have? But that’s wonderful! Is he well?”

“He seems to be doing fine.” Of course she remembered what Lenny had told her about his brother, and of course she managed to instantly ask the one question he couldn’t truthfully answer. “May I… May I ask you a question?”

“Of course, sweetheart!” Taking Lenny’s hand as if he was a small child, she walked with him over to a narrow bench that was standing next to window in the hallway, gently pushing him down. “You know I always have time for you.”

Being part of the family the Aroona were among each other was a wonderful thing, Lenny had to admit. But at times, constantly being helped at every breath was just a little exhausting.   
On the other hand, maybe Mother Sophia could really help. Maybe she had already seen such a situation like the one his brother was currently steering himself into. After all, she was one of the oldest Aroona of the Empire. She even looked old. Well, elderly. Okay, maybe just not as youthful as the other priests he knew.

“Thank you, Mother.” Lenny took his time to decide where to begin his story, knowing that Mother Sophia would never press him nor think he was stealing her time. “Look, my brother was always very protective of me. He is a very proud and caring man, and really not cut out to make a good slave.” 

Mother Sophia took off her glasses and started cleaning them, nodding with calm understanding. 

“Now he is owned by a young van der Meer mistress, a very proud and caring woman.” With a roll of his eyes, he added: “They’re falling in love.”

“Mmh.” Checking her glasses, she thought about if for a moment before asking: “They are falling in love or he is falling in love?”

“I’m not sure. I mean, I’m very sure about my brother, and I am kinda sure about her as well.” It was a mess, and he had a very, very bad feeling about it. “It’s going to be a disaster of epic proportions.”

“Is it? I’m afraid I fail to see the problem, yet.”

“They’re both too much used to being the one in charge, and way too proud to admit it. Both think they have to protect each other and are absolutely convinced they don’t need any protecting themselves.” Lenny explained. “Add to that the ‘normal’ problems of a slave/master couple, and you have a perfect recipe for disaster.” 

“I see,” she replied with a smile and a slow nod. “So what are you going to do about it?”

That was about the last question Lenny had expected. But of course, Mother Sophia was right, as always. 

“Asking my Mother Superior if I should meddle.” he replied with a lopsided smirk. “I mean, there’s a whole damn chapel of highly qualified priests here, and I really, really don’t want to mess this one up more than it already is.”

“Well, there is a really simple rule for these instances, dear. Has your brother or the Lady sought the advice of any other priest?”

“Hell, no.” The thought was so absurd that Lenny had to laugh out loud. “That would require admitting they need help, you know? Never gonna happen.”

“Have you spotted any Phoenix Knight getting involved in the matter?”

“A Phoenix Knight?!” he repeated, incredulous.

There was no shortage of important people and celebrities of all sorts one came across in the hallways of the imperial palace. But the emperor’s personal knights, the heroes of the Empire, were a different matter all together. And something Lenny would put a lot of effort in to keep well out of reach. 

“Yes, sweety. They are drawn to problems like flies to shit.” She smiled again, her face wrinkled with amusement. Apparently, she had been looking forward to this discussion a long time already. “So have you seen one sneak around our star-crossed lovers?”

“No… at least, none that I would have recognized.”

“Trust me, you would have noticed… In that case - finder’s keepers! It’s your problem. Congratulations!”

For a heartbeat, Lenny wasn’t sure if she was mocking him. But she seemed perfectly honest, and genuinely happy for him having found a proper problem to meddle in. Lenny felt his heart sink at the prospect.

“Okay, so we’re allowed to meddle. But shouldn’t that involve someone at least a little bit more trained than me? I mean, shouldn’t we at least set a novice on the case?”

Indulgently, Mother Sophia patted Lenny’s hand. More and more it seemed that she hadn’t only been waiting for this discussion with Lenny. It also seemed she had this discussion in similar ways on a regular basis, and that it was a good thing. 

“Love, you just told me yourself they would never accept help from just any priest. You are in the perfect position to help. This is what being an Aroona priest is all about. Helping when you can. And how are you to learn if you never try?”

She was perfectly right, of course. It just didn’t make it one single bit easier. 

“I think I just hoped I wouldn’t have to train on my only living family, you know? You said yourself, training means failing until you don’t.” With a shrug, he added: “I think I’m just scared I’m not good enough.” 

“Don’t be silly.” Mother Sophia reprimanded him kindly. “It’s not like you are facing this dragon all on your own. I am always here to help.”

“Thank you, Mother.” He knew he could trust on her support. She might be an important and very busy woman, and he was merely a slave sweeping the hallway. But she would never break a promise. Knowing he wasn’t alone in this, Lenny put on a courageous smile. And after all, he hadn’t sneaked into the novices’ lessons all these times for nothing. “So, where am I to begin?”

“The first step in any operation is gathering intelligence,” Mother Sophia started with a gently lecturing tone. “You have to find out where they are at, if at all possible getting both their views. I know getting people to talk sounds daunting at first, but you always have to keep in mind that they really want to talk. You just have to create opportunities for them.”

Listening to her breaking down that huge problem into small, manageable bits made Lenny’s smile change from daunted to conspiring. 

“Talking, huh? I think I can manage that.” All of a sudden, he could hardly wait to meddle in his brother’s life. “Thanks, Mother.”

“You’re most welcome, dear” Mother Sophia replied with a firm hug, sounding rather proud of Lenny. 

Eying the broom that was still standing next to him, Lenny asked cheekily: “But I am still not relieved of cleaning duties, am I?”

This time, it was Mother Sophia who laughed out loud. “Of course not.”

“Thought so. But it was worth a try.” 

Grabbing his broom, he returned to the place he had stopped sweeping, smiling widely as Mother Sophia left him with a silent nod. 

Maybe, he wondered, with a little luck, this might not turn into a disaster, after all.


	10. Chapter 10

Wes sat in the antechamber of Leesha's office, sorting through his master's latest correspondence. He liked his hours of duty in the office, as it gave him ample opportunity to hone his skills as an active member of society. And doing something productive for a change was nice, actually. 

Some of the letters the Prince received were no more than unsolicited advertising of nebulous causes, and instantly ended up on Wesley's 'polite rejection' pile. Most of the stuff were requests that could just as well be delegated to one of the other officers of the Malachite Guard. Or to the Ruby Guard, in some cases, for that matter. Only a fraction actually was important enough to end up on Leesha's desk. And it filled Wes with a deep sense of happiness that it was him who decided what was important and what was not. 

Actually, Wes was so absorbed in his work, and his new life in general, that at first, he didn't even realize that his old life walked into his master's office. 

In this case, his old life was the only son of the Duke who had previously owned Wesley. The son of the late Duke of Del'Morad, whose death still was laid at the courtesan's feet, even though a proper court had discharged the allegations. Now the late Duke's son was the new Duke, and standing right in front of Wesley's desk. 

"Sir, how can I be of assistance?" the courtesan asked, silently thanking the gods that the lump he suddenly felt in his throat wasn't audible in his voice. 

Duke Karl Dracon of Del'Morad was looking every inch the strapping, vigorous young noble he was rumoured to be, broad-shouldered and dark in his immaculate uniform. With rising dread, the courtesan realized how much Karl resembled his father, and how close to the surface those memories were still living inside his mind. But luckily, the expression in Karl's face clearly showed that he was just as surprised at seeing Wesley again. 

"Wesley." he said, struggling to find words. "What are YOU doing here?"

Seeing that the son of his last owner was as confused at their unexpected reunion made Wesley feel much more in control. If only in appearance, he managed to get all professional again, even though his mind was in an uproar. What was Karl doing here?

"I am assigned to the post of personal secretary of Prince Leesha Dracon, Sir." Wes replied matter-of-factly, choosing his words carefully to make clear he was still a courtesan, for all that might be worth. 

"Oh..." Duke Karl's face remained thoughtful for a moment, then a wide smile blossomed in his face, adding a dangerously charming note to his ruggedly handsome features. "Well I guess at least I found the right office then, eh. Be so kind to tell him that I'm here to see him."

Now that didn't make any sense in Wesley's eyes either. But he was only the courtesan, so what did he understand of the matters of the high and mighty? Well, more than most of those high and mighty ever would, but in this particular case Wesley was at a loss. 

Forcing a polite smile onto his face, the courtesan complied.

"Of course, Sir." Once more, Wesley chided himself internally for not having ordered a cyberware intercom. But as things were, he just activated the plain version on his desk, saying: "Master, Duke Karl of Del'Morad is here, asking to see you." 

On the other side, there was a distinctive pause before Prince Leesha replied. 

"Karl is here?" the young Dracon asked incredulously but most anticipative. 

With rising panic, Wes registered that the two Nobles were on first name terms, nothing that happened easily with the likes of them. What the hell was going on here, and why the hell didn't he have any clue? 

"Yes, Sir." he managed to press out, hoping no one would notice how tense he was.

-

About the very last person he had expected to run into on P2 had been the courtesan who had murdered his father. Well, not that Karl wouldn't have killed that monster himself sooner or later, but Wesley's schemes had remained to trouble the young Duke and his stepmother for the better part of their first year. 

To say that his relationship towards the courtesan was strained was a very flattering way to put things. What this snake in human guise was doing at his best friend's front desk was a complete enigma to him. But not the first time Leesha acted so erratically. Actually, the more Karl thought about it, probably he was just the right person to watch after his august outrageousness the consort. 

"Well, by all means, send him in!"

Leesha's voice coming out of the intercom on Wesley's desk interrupted Karl's thoughts. A sudden wave of happiness made him realize how much he had missed his little rodent since their time on Kalidor. 

Behind his desk, Wesley rose in all the artificial grace a courtesan of his standing was expected to show, bowing in perfect style.

"Prince Leesha welcomes you." 

Hardly making a sound, the courtesan managed the vaguely inhuman feat to glide across the floor and open the door to his master's office, all the time remaining attentive and deferential. Once again, Karl found his decision affirmed that he would never ever let a courtesan close to him. Such creeps. 

But the young Duke didn't have much of a chance to dwell on the subject any longer. For even though Leesha's office room turned out to be rather vast, the little rodent seemed to cross the space in less than a heartbeat.

"KARL!" he burst out, merrily bearhugging his former tutor. "Gods! I can't believe you're here!" 

Leesha impacted with such momentum that Karl actually stumbled back a few steps. Now this was definitely different than the last time they had seen each other, he wondered. Taking a look he realized that Leesha now stood a few fingers taller than himself, and had put on some weight in all the right places...

"My, you have grown, little rodent. You're taller than me now... "

"Indeed, who's the rodent now?"

Hearing his familiar voice and all their long-missed, amiable insults made Karl feel somehow at home right away. This was a place he didn't have to watch his back or every word he said. Here, he was among friends. 

"Being a rodent is a matter of character," he retorted with a grin, "not of size."

Leesha amiably poked his friend's ribs, and Karl took the moment to look around the office a little longer. The place was dominated by the massive desk and the huge armchair and actually looked like an office of someone who was seriously working here. Not that Karl had expected anything else, but it was comforting to know, nonetheless. 

Almost coincidentally, the young duke suddenly realized they were not alone in the room. On another, much smaller armchair in front of the desk, a petite woman was sitting, her shimmering green armor indicating that she was one of Leesha's officers. 

She had her dark hair in a neat braid on her back, her hands in her lap and her eyes politely cast down, but still she managed to trigger some kind of memory in Karl. It was less her face that seemed familiar to him, but her stance, that calm perfection she exuded in both appearance and attitude. 

Gently, he separated from Leesha and walked over to her, finally remembering her face as she looked up, her eyes dark orbs of secret sorrows just as he remembered them from when they still had been kids.

"Rose?"

-

Which deity on all the known worlds had she so thoroughly angered that she deserved all this? Of all people, now, here, in her Major's office with no place to hide, it just had to be Duke Karl Dracon? 

Only vaguely remembering that she had been asked a question, Rose nodded silently. In her head, hundreds of voices suddenly seemed to clamour, in panic, in mortification, in amazement, in shock. 

How under all the heavens was she going to explain this to Eric? She had so dearly hoped this little detail of her life would have been able to wait just a little longer. 

"Oh, this is Rose Van Der Meer, one of my officers... " Leesha made the obsolete effort of introducing them. "But you seem to know each other."

Not managing much more than a stupid smile, Rose tried hard to keep her rising panic at bay. She wasn't to bolt and run, she chided herself. She was going to see this through with as much grace as she could. 

She was a Noble, after all. 

"By the gods, Rose." Karl just sounded as surprised as Rose herself, which helped a lot to calm her down. With her features much better under control now, she looked up at Karl and realized that the years had passed most advantageously on him. He had always been tall and broad-shouldered, but now there was a manly quality to his looks, a dark promise that made the blood rush to her ears. 

Or maybe Rose had never realized it had already been there all the time, blind as she had been to men till she had met Eric...

By then, Karl had walked over to the van der Meer, kissing her hand with much more charm and deference than the situation would have called for. "What an unexpected pleasure..."

"Karl... This is... most unexpected..." Her attempt at taking a deep breath only resulted in a small, choked sound. Rose could almost feel her Major's questioning look drill holes in her head, but as much as she might have wished for it, she didn't wake up out of this nightmare. So facing her own shame as grimly as she would have any enemy, she looked up to Leesha, trying to sound firm as she said: "Major, may I introduce? Duke Karl Dracon of Del'Morad. My fiancé."

-

"You're...? Oh..."

For a change things were moving a little too swiftly even for Leesha. That Karl was on P2 was a surprise.

But that Rose was engaged - and of all people to Karl - had not been mentioned in her file and therefore was startling in many ways. After all she was just starting to settle down with her slave. This would stir things up again and knowing Rose that meant a heap of nervous fits - in the best case.

And Leesha had no idea how Karl would react when he learned that his fiancé was in love with a slave.

Leesha blinked as he tried to process all this as quickly as possible.

It was quite possible that the whole issue would resolve itself without any interference on his part. After all Karl was a sensible and kind man and Rose was bright and strong. It would be a good idea to stay uninvolved unless there was actual trouble brewing. And of that he would learn soon enough should it happen.

"Well isn't that an interesting coincident!" Leesha commented, smiling at Karl. "You're a lucky man, my friend."

"Well, yes, ain't I?"

Karl's smile was pleasantly surprised and so happy and carefree that Leesha's heart leapt painfully. The last time he had seen his friend Karl had been tense and very afraid. To see how much better he was now made Leesha happy as well.

Karl beamed at Rose with all his charm turned on. "Well, I am here for some time now. You think there is a chance I can invite you out for dinner?"

Rose reaction was what Leesha had expected. She looked like a panicked deer.

"I - I am very busy..." he muttered, fluttering her arms nervously.

Karl looked at Leesha, his hopeful smile now turned on him.

"I think your commanding officer will make an exception in this case, won't he?"

Leesha nodded and gave Rose a long look, trying to convey how very important he thought it was that she figured out how she wanted to arrange her lover and her fiancé in her life.

"Of course," he answered Karl's question, phrasing his reply carefully, "I'm sure she can make some room for you in her busy life."

He was relieved when Rose took a deep breath and calmed a little. Still her voice was a little squeaky with tension when she answered. "I am sure I can."

Another deep breath and she was able to turn to Karl and look him in the eyes. "Duke, I am awaiting your invitation." she said a bit stiffly but at least gracefully.

"Major, if that would be all now?" she then sought her chance to escape.

Taking pity on her Leesha nodded. "Yes."

Rose managed to at least nod a farewell before she fled the room.

-

This really seemed to be a morning full of pleasant surprises. How exceedingly unusual. Bowing deep, Karl waited until Rose had closed the door behind her, then he turned around to face his friend.

"She seems a bit stressed, doesn't she?" 

"She works too hard, and takes her job very seriously." Leesha had a fond smile on his still rather handsome face, Karl found. "She's an extraordinary woman."

"A woman indeed..." Still stunned by what had become out of the thin girl he had in his memories, the Duke of Del'Morad explained: "The last time we met, we were about, what, ten years old?" 

Apparently not willing to see his friend's mind so occupied with one of his captains, Leesha grabbed Karl and hugged him again for all it was worth. "Gods, man, I've missed you!"

It was odd to hold the little rodent in his arms again, and even though Leesha was a little taller than Karl now, it somehow felt the same instantly again. 

"Same with me." With a tired chuckle, he added: "Though I have to admit that I have hardly had the time to do anything as leisurely as missing someone. Staying alive is so much more pressing a problem..."

For a moment, the two men just stood there, happy to be in each other's presence again. Then, after a careful observation, Leesha stated with a certain satisfaction: "You have grown up... You have this manly man look now."

"Now do I...?" Karl had never considered himself the girlish kind of guy at any time, but it was obvious that Leesha just wanted to make a compliment. "And you are not that lanky anymore." With a smirk, he untangled himself from the younger man's embrace, asking: "Maybe we could go out and have some fun one of these days? You promised me to show me around." 

"You bet!", Leesha instantly exclaimed with a happy grin. "I'll show you all the interesting parts of Imperial City no tourist guide will mention. I'm glad you are well - I tried to keep up to date on the situation on Del'Morad and you seemed to do rather fine."

That was about the most modest way to put things, but Karl merely nodded.

"Mother and I have been very lucky." Now that was a true thing if Karl had ever heard one. With a relieved laugh, he explained: "I mean, my planet now is in good hands, I don't have to fear a revolt in the near future. This is the first free time I've had since I came home from Kalidor and I have every intention to enjoy my holidays here on P2."

-

Leesha smiled at his friend. It was a true joy to see Karl like this, compared to the tense young man who had left Kalidor a few years ago.

"You look well, relaxed," Leesha stated, "I'm glad to see you so well."

"Thank you. I wouldn't have believed it either, one year ago. But we managed." Karl answered. "And you, quite stumbling up the ladder, aren't you?"

"Yeah, not of my own choosing, you can be sure," Leesha answered with a grin and a shrug, "you know what family politics are like."

"Tell me about it." Karl snorted. "But apart from work - how are you doing?"

Leesha only needed a moment to realize that there really was only one honest answer to that question.

"Hm... let me see..." he drawled, "I'd have to say... great." He perched on the edge of the desk and gestured for Karl to take a seat in one of the huge guest chairs. "I've settled in well, having a household of my own is nice."

"A 'household'?"

Karl's curiously raised eyebrow made Leesha chuckle. From what he had heard of Karl lately the Duke of Del'Morad was leading an "all work and no fun" life. 

"Yeah, a proper Dracon household, you know?" Leesha explained, "Servants, pets?"

-

It was quite an effort to imagine the boy Karl met on Kalidor was now leading a proper household of his own in the imperial palace.

"My, my. You've done a lot of growing up, then." Leesha indeed seemed to have grown up a lot, and suddenly Karl remembered that he wasn't talking to some boy, but to the Major of the Consort's Malachite Guard as well. "So, am I keeping you from any important business or are we going to go somewhere more interesting?"

"Actually I'm on duty so no "just leaving" for me." Just being his old self, Leesha seemed genuinely amused by the notion that he could do anything but excel in the task he had been given. 

"I see." Seemed the Malachite Guard was a little more than the highly decorative toy to the consort if someone like Leesha was making serious work of it. Which also reminded Karl that there had been someone rather dangerous sitting in Leesha's front office. "Actually, how much do you know about the courtesan sitting in front of that door?"

"Wesley?" Leesha's smile was as curious as it was mischievous. "As far as I know he killed your dad but I'm sure you have more details." 

"Well, in a way, yes." He should have remembered that Leesha was well able to drop all noble innuendo and speak as blunt as any commoner just to see Karl get out of stride. But it didn't take more than a heartbeat for the young duke to gather up his wits again and ask just as directly: "How in all heavens did he end up here?"

"Well, I bought him of course, I thought someone doing such a charitable thing for one of my best friends deserved better than to rot at Christies." 

"Charitable thing? Only partially dear, only partially so." It sure had been a relief like no other to hear that his cursed father was dead, but the circumstances of his untimely demise had been more than aggravating. "The better part of the first months back home we needed to disperse the evidence he had laid to indicate my mother as the murderer..."

"Yeah, he's a bright boy, my dear Wes." Leesha's smile now was genuine beaming with a certain pride that Karl found vaguely unnerving. "I was wondering why he's still alive, care to elaborate?"

"No, actually I don't want to go into much detail." Karl rubbed his face as he really wasn't in the mood to remember all the ugly details of his first months as ruling Duke of Del'Morad. It had been an ugly, unpleasant and very dangerous time, and he dearly wished he would never have to open that box in his mind again. But on the other hand, Leesha was the only person he considered a close personal friend, and he neither wanted to push him away nor did he want to let the only chance pass to have anyone share his troubles. So in the end, he said evenly: "Let's say my father was dead, everybody suspected my mother, who indeed had had plans. And while mother had been busy surviving, that courtesan actually planted enough spin to everything that happened that even some other dukes were convinced no one else but her could have done it. One actually called in to ask when we would burn her at the stake. "

"Seems you survived all of it and even managed to come out on top, what I still don't get is why Wes did as well..."

That question was so justified that Karl had to laugh out loud. "Well, at first mother was furious beyond words. But in the end, she seemed to be grateful and it somehow was a matter of honour to help him get out alive." With a shrug, he added: "I never claimed to understand her. And he deserved a chance at a better life, which he apparently has found here. I just would never trust him if I were in your shoes."

"Oh Karl..." Shaking his head, Leesha suddenly was once again the lanky student on Kalidor, trying to berate his tutor. "You know I have a way with people, don't you? Wes maybe isn't a good courtesan and as dangerous as a viper, but he is also happy as my aide, which he has never before been in his life. And like any dangerous creature he will fight with tooth and claw for a home once he's found it. I would say the only people who should be afraid of him are any he perceives as a threat to me."

"Yeah, you surely got a way with people." It was hard not to remember how he had charmed all levels of the Academy on Kalidor, being the diligent, skilful and real person he was. Maybe he was even good enough to charm some crooked being like Wesley. "And probably you're right about the courtesan. He surely has a lot of useful talents." 

-

For a moment both of them were silent and Leesha was rather sure they were both thinking about their time at Kalidor. Much had happened since then and they had both grown up and they had not really changed much, I seemed. Evolved maybe, but essentially they were still the same and their bond remained as intact.

"So... you and Rose?" Leesha asked, his thoughts turning back to the present and to what might become a problem. "What's that all about?"

"Oh, Rose!" The happy smile suddenly appearing on Karl's face was almost alien. "We were promised to each other as part of a settlement between House Dracon and House van der Meer when her House left our services and assumed the seat as one of the five royal houses. That was right after I was born, and we have seen each other, I think, twice in all the time."

So a classic match being arranged between to noble children. Nothing special or fancy. Only that it involved two people Leesha greatly valued. Had there not been a certain someone in Rose's life already, Leesha would have been bouncing with joy. The more he thought about it the more he realized how well Karl would suit Rose and vice versa. 

"Hm, I hate to tell you but she never mentioned you..." Leesha noted with some amusement but not quite able to keep his second thoughts completely out of his voice.

"Well, why should she have? I don't think there is any set date for our marriage." Karl answered guilelessly but then he eyed Leesha suspiciously. "Is there something between the two of you?"

That thought had never crossed Leesha's mind. "Me and Rose?" He laughed. "No, she's a good friend and an extremely capable officer. Which is, why of course I take an interest in everything concerning her. I am not sure the Consort will agree to let her go off to Del'Morad to become a pretty duchess at your side, I'm afraid."

"In so far as I remember, the Consort was pivotal in negotiating the settlement, we’re part of the Concord of P2, after all..."

Now that was a new information. The Concord of P2 was the collection of contracts and settlements that had been put up between the Great Houses at the end of the Second Succession War. And the Consort rarely did anything without a plan, even though most of his actions seemed frighteningly random. Just as most of the time Leesha realized that he had no clue whatsoever what the Consort was planning this time.

"Was he now? I have no clue then," he admitted, "after all we are talking about his august outrageousness."

Karl of course was a lot less worried than Leesha and laughed. "True. But yes, it was his writing all over the matter."

For a moment he seemed lost in thought, his face relaxed in silent wonder. "I never even thought of her becoming someone I actually would WANT to marry..." he then said, "she looks gorgeous."

"Let me assure you, she is wonderful: intelligent, beautiful, kind, unusual and very capable of taking care of herself." Leesha couldn't resist showing of one of his finest officers. He smirked. "She's also rather dangerous..."

That got Karl even more intrigued. "Wow... That sounds... I'll have to woo her... What kind of flowers does she like?"

"Actually I would suggest sweets..." Leesha answered with an amiable grin.


	11. Chapter 11

Eric opened the door and looked at the man standing outside first with confusion, then - as he noticed the Dracon uniform - with apprehension. 

It was one of Rose free evenings and he had looked forward to spending it curled around her after a good meal. A Dracon at her door could only mean some sort of trouble.

"Yes, sir?" he asked cautiously, scanning the man for some sort of clue on what to expect.

The strikingly attractive young man, Eric noted with a bad feeling in his guts. And he wasn’t just wearing ANY Dracon uniform, either. It was a gala uniform and if Eric was not mistaken one denoting a very high rank. He also carried what looked a like a little gift box.

Still the words of the noble hit Eric like a hammer.

"Please tell your mistress that her date is here."

Somehow Eric managed to keep in check the roiling wave of rage ring up in him at the simple thought of someone dating his Rose. He didn't punch the Dracon in the face, he didn't shout at him to get lost, he even swallowed all his comments and kept his features calm apart from a slow blink.

This had to be some kind of mistake, Eric told himself firmly. The noble probably had the wrong address. After all Rose was curled up in front of the trideo and hadn't mentioned any kind of date.

"Ah... yes... please come in..." he said with some measure of politeness. He showed the man to a posh lounge they rarely used. "I will let her know that you are here."

Then he quickly left to find Rose. She wouldn't have a date, he told himself. She wouldn't. 

Eric found Rose right where he had left her, in the huge armchair she favoured, curled up under a large blanket, munching chocolate and watching yet another rerun of "Even Nobles Cry".

He really tried to ask her politely but what came out was a soft growl. "Rose... is it possible that something has slipped your mind, something that was supposed to happen tonight...?" 

She looked up. At first she looked just as confused at he had hoped she would. But then her expression turned first to plain shocked, then a tiny bit anticipative and at last outright horrified.

"Oh my god..." she whispered, bunching the blanket in front of her mouth.

That was certainly not what Eric had wanted to hear.

If she was really planning to go out with that... that... man... Eric felt his vision turn red.

"Yes...?" he somehow managed to ask.

"Oh Eric, I..." Rose mouth worked soundlessly, her eyes huge confused. "This is a little difficult." she finally muttered, not helping to calm Eric in any way.

He desperately tried to hang on to his last shred of calm. He had known this would happen some day. That he could not keep her forever, that happiness was only temporary. 

"I see." he said with icy calm.

But not so soon! Not like this! How could she do this to him??

"YOU HAVE A DATE???!!"

-

The sheer volume of Eric's outburst made Rose flinch, both the sound and the emotion. 

"Shh!" she hissed, hoping nobody had overheard her slave yelling at her. How on earth could she have forgotten that tonight she had agreed on going out for dinner with Karl? Well, she was rather good at things she didn't want to face, and in this case not wanting to tell Eric had let to this wonderful escalation of disaster. "A date? Who said it was a date?!"

Eric's reply was no more than a low growl. "The Dracon who just showed up at the front door!"

"Karl?!" But why in all the known worlds should her fiancé ask her out on a date? This all made no sense...

"He didn't mention a name." 

Still Eric's voice was dangerously low, and in her head, Rose was desperately looking for a neat way to explain all this to him without wasting any more time...

"Oh my god." Almost voiceless, the little exclamation was everything Rose could get out. She had to tell Eric, to calm him, to tell him that whatever Karl had said, it wasn't as it looked, that it was in a way much better and then again much worse, and all that with as little words as possible to give her a chance to get at least halfway fittingly dressed. Looking down at the comfy outfit she currently wore, there was only one more thing she could say. "Oh. My. God."

"Rose..." As much as the thoughts in her head were chasing each other, she didn't overlook that Eric was close to loosing his temper. "Who is "Karl"?!"

"The Duke of Del'Morad." she replied evenly, as it was the only thing she could say without danger. But of course, that was about the furthest thing of the answer Eric had deserved to hear. "Eric, love, I can't let him wait, and this is a long story and very political. I'll explain later, yes, dear?"

Rose had hoped this would be enough, that her lover trusted her sufficiently to let this instance pass without making it more complicated to her than it already was. But when Eric hissed like an angry cat, she knew she wouldn't get the easy way out, not tonight. 

"Don't treat me like an imbecile! You have a date with the Duke of Del'Morad?"

Once again, his anger hit Rose almost like a physical force. But as always when she felt threatened, she faced it. Cold and professional, as she had been trained all her life. No person would ever gain anything of treating her like that, be it noble, slave or lover.

"Yes, I do." Rose delivered those words with the precision of throwing darts, and added with narrow eyes: "And no, I am not treating you like an imbecile, but like a man I expected to have better manners than to make me a scene." 

For a heartbeat, Eric seemed to be stunned out of words, then turned pale with anger. 

"Fine," he snapped, turned around on his heel and left the room.

If there had been a door in his way, Rose was sure he would have slammed it shut with enough force to make the plaster come off the walls. 

With her lover out of the room, the young van der Meer's anger vanished as instantly as it had appeared. What the hell had forced her to be so rude with Eric? 

"Perfect, just perfect," she whispered to herself, wondering if this evening could get any worse. 

With a certain anguish, she turned off the trideo behind her. Those people on 'Even Nobles Cry' suddenly seemed to lead calm and uncomplicated lives in comparison to herself, she found. And she had always thought the plot of those operas was exaggerated. 

Pah. Those people had no idea.


	12. Chapter 12

Karl was softly humming to himself as he closed the door behind him. The hallway of the spacious villa he had rented here on P2 was quiet and dark. Karl had told the servants in advance that he would not require them until the morning. And he was glad he had done so. Their polite service would have intruded on his happiness.

The evening he had just spent with Rose had been everything he had hoped for. 

No... that was not quite true. He hadn't had any idea what to expect. He had looked forward to finding out what kind of woman the girl he had been promised to had grown up to be. That she would turn out to be a woman he would gladly count among he few friends had plain amazed him.

She was intelligent in a quiet, reserved way. She was highly educated as befitting a noble lady of her rank. But her special position as a Captain of the Malachite Guard had also made sure she had a unique view on the politics of the Empire. And with that came a stable opinion of her own.

At first it had been a bit hard to get her out of her shy, polite shell but after a few glasses of wine they had been chatting lively and lost track of time. 

He had enjoyed her company immensely and the prospect of spending the better part of his life with her by his side suddenly made his future look a lot brighter. She was a capable woman, someone who would be able to guard his back, someone he would be able to rely on. The thought of spending long evenings with her at the huge fireplace that dominated his study at home on Del'Morad, discussing daily business and politics, was nice.

The thought of her petite body cuddled against his, of holding her and making love to her right there was even better.

Had he been asked to pick a perfect girl to marry he would have chosen her anyway.

Karl dropped his jacket on a chair and ran his fingers through his hair.

Amazing how sometimes you had to go through hell to find there was a rather pleasant place on the other side.

"Carlos..." 

Karl jumped in surprise, as a familiar voice broke him from his musing. He turned to find his mother coming down the stairs. 

"Where have you been?" she asked, deep reproach in her voice.

"Mother!" he blinked at her a bit owlishly. How had she known he was home? And why in all the Known Worlds did she wear this high-collared, long-trailed monstrosity of a dressing gown? "Have you been standing there all night?"

-

Of course he would ask that. Carlos was such a high-spirited young man, so delightfully irreverent that he bore little resemblance to his father. In fact, he reminded Lady Ornella of her late husband. Her first one, the only one she had ever truly loved. And that thought scared her more than anything else she wanted to admit. 

"I was worried about you." she stated firmly, closing the distance between her and her son by marriage in a few, well measured steps. Running up to him and holding him tight would never do for a woman of her position. Never ever. "This is not Del'Morad, Carlos, and we're not among friends." 

He only blinked in return, looking completely bewildered. Then, carefully choosing his words not to sound harsh, he replied: 

"Mother, my name is Karl... and I have no idea what you are talking about."

Oh. 

So she had done it again. Lady Ornella felt like stomping on the ground and biting her lips. How did that ever slip her again? So many years among the Dracon, and still she wasn't able to use 'proper' names with the ones dear to her. Whatever was deemed appropriate these days, a son of her would always bear a proper name, even if she'd never call him so in public. And Carlos was her son, if maybe in her heart only. But then again, was there anything else that mattered? 

"You were out, and not with your Dracon friend from Kalidor." As if any Dracon could feel a thing like friendship, pah! "So I wondered if you were aware that these people here have been playing politics since the beginning of time, and what we have been through at home was kindergarten compared to this."

"Yes, mother."

Carlos was only smirking at her, of course. His mood seemed to be blissfully happy, making him completely untouchable by her worries. So typical of him... But even as much as she wanted to join him in his well-deserved holiday feelings, she wouldn't let him walk into his doom without a proper warning. Too much depended on him.

"I do not like to repeat myself. So where have you been?"

\---

Karl couldn't help but smile down at his mother, she was much smaller than him and even though she was not a young woman anymore, she was beautiful. Not the forced youth many women of her age coveted, but the beauty of someone who had gone through hell with him and managed to come out on top with a graceful smile.

As long as he could think back she had been on his side, the only sane being in a household dominated by a brutal monster in human guise. He couldn't remember what life had been like before his father had married her. He had still been too small and his capacity of suppressing unpleasant memories had allowed him to completely forget that time. 

He loved her dearly, even if he never said so. She would have had a fit with such an unrestrained confession of affection.

She was still glaring at him with those piercing green eyes. A vulture's eyes, his father had called them. Karl felt more reminded of a crow. Which admittedly wasn't much more flattering.

"On a date." he answered truthfully. There was no point in lying. She would find out anyway.

If at all possible her expression good even more disapproving. "With whom?" she inquired icily.

Karl's smile grew into a grin. He knew his next words would deliver a blow to her unshakable security that she knew about everything concerning him. But even she couldn't be prepared for such an unlikely coincidence as him running into Rose in Leesha's office.

"With my fiancé."

His mother managed to keep her reaction down to raising an immaculate eyebrow. But by the barely hidden annoyance in her voice Karl could tell that he had caught her off guard. "The one I know by name or another one?"

"I have only one fiancé, mother." he answered, still grinning. Tonight none of her sour bickering would upset him. "And she is wonderful." In boyish happiness he made a little pirouette.

-

This all sounded worse and worse with every sentence Carlos said. 

"You see me worried." If he had met that girl he had been promised to, why was he so happy? "So this little van der Meer has shown up?" 

"What do you mean, "shown up"?" he asked. Leaving Ornella standing in the vast hallway, he turned around and headed for the kitchen. "She works her on P2, she's an officer in the Malachite Guard."

Now was she? Following her son, Ornella cursed soundlessly. How could that have slipped her? How could she have ever been so complacent and considered her son's fiancé one of the very few problems that could wait just a little longer? 

Only when they arrived in the nightly deserted kitchen of their city manor, the words Carlos had said earlier trickled into her conscious, making the Dowager Duchess of Del'Morad even more nervous.

"What do you mean with 'she is wonderful'?" she asked, hoping her son would at least give her chance to explain.

"Well", he said while starting to pour himself a large glass of orange juice from the refrigerator and gesturing with the glass. "Wonderful... you know? Intelligent, strong willed, beautiful, capable, funny, beautiful, interesting..." 

His happy smile widened into the worst, charmingly boyish grin she had ever seen on her son. "And the best part is that she's my fiancé so we are already engaged!" 

With a long, happy sigh, he downed most of the glass. Looking out of the small kitchen window, he muttered mostly to himself: "I just hope she likes me..."

Ornella had had a bad feeling about this all as soon as her sources in the palace informed her that Carlos had not been out with his former Kalidor comrade. But by now, this all sounded like the worst possible disaster just waiting to happen. And this boy wasn't even trying to listen to her. 

It was making her nervous beyond words that she could just too well understand the terrible mistake Carlos was about to make. After all, she had been there, all the way, and paid dearly for her foolishness. If only these were different times...

Declaring this a dire emergency, Lady Ornella slid past her son to the refrigerator, fetching herself a can of disreputably sweet soda she kept there for moments right like these.

"I cannot say I like this development." she stated, trying very hard to remain matter-of-factly and not to start yelling. "You're supposed to marry her, not to 'like' her."

And Carlos had the audacity to giggle at her, of all things. Lady Ornella was so upset all her worries were forgotten in a heartbeat. Icy like the killing blizzards of Del'Morad, she snapped:

"I don't see anything funny about this!"

-

Asked if his mother ever did anything funny, Karl would have declared that impossible right up to this moment. But she looked so flustered at the simple fact that he was falling for a girl it just looked... well... funny.

"I think it's immensely funny." he said, smiling at his mother fondly and sitting down on the edge of the huge kitchen table.

He had no clue why she was so agitated. Was it because something had happened that she had not carefully orchestrated? He thought it pretty much impossible that she didn't think he deserved a little happiness. 

Seeing how she clung to her can of soda, he took pity on her. "I mean, I always knew in the back of my mind that I would have to marry "that girl", it's plain wonderful to find out that "that girl" happens to be one I would have gladly married anyway." he tried to explain.

His try at comforting her didn't have the desired effect. In fact it seemed to make it worse. She looked genuinely worried.

"You're not falling in love, are you?" she asked as if that was the worst possible scenario.

Was he? Karl sipped his orange juice carefully considering the question. 

"I wouldn't know as I've never been in love..." he finally answered, "Does it feel like butterflies in your belly and all giddy and like suddenly everything is not so bad?"

His mother looked as if someone had asked her to eat a particularly ugly bug. 

"That still can be a mere infatuation, passing with time..." she said but it was obvious she was desperately hanging on to a shred of hope.

-

This WAS the worst possible thing to happen. Lady Ornella so desperately wanted to explain to her son what was so incredibly dangerous about what he was doing. But on the other hand, no one deserved a little happiness more than Carlos. After all, his whole life so far had been nothing but a struggle for survival... 

If she only had the words to tell, but that would also expose parts of her past she would have to keep hidden for the rest of her life. Even if that meant to hide who she really was until the stars faded.

Feeling all small and miserable, she opened her soda and took a big gulp right out of the can. Normally, she would have rather died than being seen like this in public, but right now, she couldn't have cared less. 

"We're nobles, Carl- Karl." Only in the last moment, she caught herself. Carlos didn't like her calling him like that; how was he supposed to understand this anyhow? "And don't think we'll ever be safe, it'll just get less obvious now. Don't mix up politics and matters of the heart." 

With a strangely loving look, he smiled at her.

"Mother, I haven't been this happy since... well... actually I don't think I have ever felt this happy." Gesturing with his glass, he added: "You know I take politics seriously. But they are only a means to an end. At some point they have to make way for actually living. Even for nobles. I don't give a damn about 'safe' if it means I am dead inside and turn into a thing like my father."

"You will never be like your father. Not as long as there is one living breath in me." 

The words were out of her mouth faster than she could stop them. And they were true, from the deepest foundation of her heart. By whatever turn of fate, she had been given a second chance in Carlos, and nothing of his rotten sire's blood would ever be allowed to fester in her son. She knew she was smiling like a shark now, and once again, she couldn't have cared less. Carlos was her only family as far as she was concerned, and she would fight for him to the very last. 

Even if it meant to trample his blossoming first love to death.

"But loving your wife can get you killed, not only in body, but it can tear apart your heart." Loving someone can get you killed without dying, Lady Ornella added in her mind, once again reminding herself why she hadn't died when they took her first husband from her. "We're nobles, and the decisions we have to make never are simple ones." 

But once again, Carlos merely shrugged. 

"I'm willing to take the risk." He slipped off the counter and put down his glass without giving Ornella a chance to reply. "I'll be off to bed now."

Fool. Men were such fools, she thought. And then again, she added with a soundless sigh, no man has ever been lovelier than a lovesick fool.   
It almost physically hurt her how much Carlos reminded her of her happy days, when there still seemed to be human beings among humanity. 

Her son had already half passed her as he suddenly stopped as if remembering something important. Then he turned around, smiling at his stepmother, only leaned forward and gently kissed her on the cheek. 

"I love you, mother." he said, and disappeared into the dark hallways of the manor. 

Stunned out of words, Lady Ornella remained in the kitchen. Carlos had never before told her that he loved her. She knew he did, but he had never said so. 

And he had called her mother. Not Mother, as a title, but mother. 

Despite her utmost efforts, Lady Ornella felt silent tears running down her face. Carlos truly was her son now, a second chance at having a family when she had long ago abandoned all hope of happiness for herself. 

And he reminded her of her first husband and her own son who she had lost so cruelly. 

Slowly, like the first drops of water coming from the glaciers at the onset of spring, more tears welled up. Then more, and even more, until the Dowager Duchess of Del'Morad sat at the empty table in her cold kitchen, curled around her can of soda, crying and sobbing like a little girl.


	13. Chapter 13

It was late at night when Rose returned to her suite in the imperial palace, much later than she had thought. But time had passed so swiftly during her ‘date’ with Karl. 

She was still surprised at how nice the evening had actually been. She had known all her life that she would be marrying the son of the Duke of Del’Morad at some point in time, but she had never given it much thought. It would happen anyway, if she liked it or not. 

The only thing she had never envisioned was that the man she was supposed to marry would turn out so very charming. The young Duke was intelligent, worldly and aggressively honest in a way that shocked and fascinated Rose in equal measures. That he was also tall and quite dashingly handsome didn’t hurt either. 

Though, on the other hand, it was exactly the fact that Rose thought her future husband attractive that made things so difficult. How would she ever explain that to Eric? She could still bite herself in the rear, angry as she was about forgetting to tell Eric about those things the very instant Karl turned up. That discussion earlier this evening would have turned out so very different.

Of course, a proper slave wasn’t supposed to have any kind of opinion on who his master was dating and when. But she had left the realm of a ‘proper’ master and slave relation a long time ago, and now she was paying the price for this. She couldn’t really blame Eric for reacting the way he had – after all, it must have been at least as confusing for him as it had been for her. Well, maybe she could blame him a little bit. He definitely had managed to talk down to her in a way that she wouldn’t have accepted even from her husband. 

Looking at things this way, maybe it was a good thing that is was this late already, Rose decided. This way, she would be able to sneak into her suite without waking Eric, and she would have to talk about the whole mess only in the morning. Everything would look that much clearer by then. 

So Rose slowly opened the locks of the door to her suite, taking great care not to make any sound. She had learned to move soundlessly since her earliest childhood, but sneaking around in her own rooms struck her as odd never the less. But it was for a good reason, she told herself. Everything to make sure this whole mess didn’t get more complicated than it already was. 

“I take it you had a lovely evening?”

Eric’s voice cut through the darkness of her suite like a knife, making Rose jump. It was only by willpower that she didn’t throw a dagger in his general direction and had a second one ready instantly. 

“Eric.” she stated flatly, barely able to mask how startled she was. This was pretty much the last thing she had wished for tonight. “You’re awake.“

-

"Did you expect someone else I don’t know about?"

The words were out of Eric's mouth before he could stop them and they were exactly the spiteful thing he hadn't wanted to say.

He had spent the last few hours restlessly pacing the apartment. There would have been plenty of thing he could have done to keep himself occupied but the overwhelming urge to tear a certain Dracon to shreds had made that impossible.

The only constructive thing he had done since Rose had left on her date was to wipe the blood from the wall where he had hit it with his fist until his knuckles bled and to bandage said knuckles. The last time he had felt this rage boil his blood had been when his brother had been raped. It hadn't served him well then and he was desperately trying to keep it in check this time, not to repeat past mistakes.

With bitter humour he wondered how he had come to be this twisted thing, struggling against his own nature. Was that really still him?

There had to be a rational explanation for Rose's behaviour. She loved him. He was sure of that. She had reacted stupidly because he had cornered her. She could have any number of reasons to go on a date with that noble.

Maybe it was part of her job and she was doing it for the consort. But she would never have forgotten about that. Duty was something she never neglected.

Or maybe it was something her family had tasked her with.

Or maybe he had somehow forced her to go out with him.

Whatever it was, she deserved his support. Together they would figure out a way to get rid of the man.

That was what he had told himself while he waited. While he truly wanted to grab a sword, spit in the Dracon's face and demand the duel that would allow him to run the bastard through.

"I expected you to sleep." Rose answered his stupid question. 

In the dim light shining in through the windows Eric could see her tiredly rubbing her face. She looked so small and in need of protection but her next words were firm and professional and shattered that imagine.

"We have to talk."

Eric took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Talk. That was what he had wanted, right? Talk was good. Better than slaughtering that pig of a noble.

"Indeed." He agreed more coldly then he had planned to. It was so hard to keep his rage in check and at the same time have a civilized conversation.

-

Why in all the Empire did he have to be this obnoxious again? Was there some kind of a competition going on, some price for the most heartbreakingly obstinate slave? 

Swallowing hard, Rose bit down another caustic remark. She had accepted Eric into her life, now she had to deal with the problems. And being snarky wouldn’t help at all, it would only rattle Eric’s cage even more. Not the best image, though. 

So probably, this was the moment for blunt facts. You couldn’t do much wrong with facts, could you?

“At the end of the Second Succession war, the ruling house of Del’Morad had to promise to marry their first male heir to a van der Meer daughter,” she explained. “Karl and I have been betrothed to each other since before we were born.”

This was a cruelly abbreviated version of the true haggling that had come before that particular treaty. After SW II, basically the whole Empire had to be divided up between the victorious allies, and many favours rendered during the war were called in. It had been a lengthy, painful affair, but the ‘Accord of P2’ had quite successfully managed to smooth things out. And compared to the SW II, every dispute since then had been nothing but a school yard tussle. 

If she were to refuse her marriage to Karl... Rose shivered at the thought of being the one person to challenge all these deals that had been bundled up to become the foundation of the Phoenix Empire. 

Eric had been silently watching her since her blunt explanation, apparently processing the implications of the whole affair as well. At first, his face had remained as petrified as before, but then suddenly it mellowed into pure compassion and he rushed towards her, pulling Rose into a tight hug that almost choked her. 

“Oh, Rose,” he whispered into her hair, holding her tightly, as if tying to protect her from every danger imaginable.

One day, this man would drive her insane! It was nice to see him caring and protective, but why did he have to be this overprotective now? Couldn’t he just be as relieved as she was herself about the spectacular fact that her fiancé was actually quite a nice guy?

“Don’t worry, love,” she replied softly, trying not to ruffle any feathers again. “He’s very kind.”

-

Barely registering what she was saying Eric stroked the hair of the tiny girl in his arms. So he had been right after all - it wasn't of her own free will that she spent time with that Dracon. In this she was as much a victim as he was. The need to protect her was overwhelming him and for a change it was him who wanted to lock her up in the apartment never to let her out again.

"Is there... there must be some way to free you of him..." he thought aloud. After all she was a trained assassin. Why not turn those skills on this unwelcome suitor.

He was quite confused when she suddenly started wriggling out of his embrace.

"What? No, Eric, no!" she exclaimed and then said the one thing he never wanted to hear from her. "I WANT to marry him."

It felt like a shard of ice being driven into his heart. That couldn't be true. Mustn't be true.

"What?" he asked, letting go of her as her presence suddenly seemed to burn him.

"He is kind, he is charming, he is the best husband I could have wished for."

Her words battered against him. She liked him? How could she possibly like him? He was the bastard who would take everything from them. Or was it just him who would lose everything while she would discard him like a used toy?

"I must marry eventually, and he’s better than anything I could have wished for."

So she had known all along. He had just been a pleasant distraction. A thing she played with to fill the time until she would get properly married to a proper noble. What had he been thinking? That she could love a slave? That a slave would ever be enough for her? How could he ever have been so stupid?

"I see." He said numbly, separating further from her.

"Really? Oh good." She sighed, obviously relieved that he now understood his place. "I really never thought of all this until he suddenly appeared in Leesha’s office one day, and I think I just tried not to think about it. I am so sorry if I hurt you."

Her off-handed, fake sympathy urged him to slap her but he crossed his arms instead. He wouldn't sink that low. He wouldn't snap. Even though he didn't really see the point in suppressing the rage anymore. What did he have to lose? She would never love him like he loved her and it hurt more than any beating. He felt torn in so many ways. There was simply nothing he could do.

"So I take it you will get married soon then?" he asked. Better to get the facts straight now. No more ugly surprises.

-

She would never understand the way Eric’s thoughts were jumping from one subject to another. But it seemed that he had finally accepted that there was no way around her arranged marriage, and tired as she was, that was all she cared for right now. 

“What? No, not soon, I think. I don’t know, we haven’t talked about that.” Rubbing her face again, Rose realized that she had to get to bed before she keeled over or said something incredibly thoughtless. But of course, Eric was right, now that Karl had shown up, she had to check if there were things to be arranged. “I have to look up the treaty. Maybe there’s a date fixed already.“

“Will you require anything before you go to bed?”

“No, thank you.” It took Rose a long moment to realize that his wording hadn’t been polite, but caustic. She was great at guessing if an enemy would try to attack left or right, but human emotions sometimes were just a little harder to pinpoint. “Are you still mad at me?”

“Of course not. It’s not my place to be mad.”

“Eric!” He was in one of those moods again, acting the submissive slave, knowing perfectly well that this was the very last thing that she wanted of him. Why was he doing this to her? For a moment, she had to fight the urge to slap him in the face for his stupidity. Couldn’t he just say what his problem was? But then she managed to restrain herself, balling her fists and hissing: “What’s your fucking problem?!”

“You have always known that you were going to get married, but never thought to inform me of that fact. I’m sure you have plans already what you will do with me, as well. Not my place to ask or know of course.”

“What?!”

The pure outrageousness of his remark made Rose gasp. Did he really think she had fallen in love with him intentionally? What the hell was he talking about?

“You expect me to keep servicing you until you get married, I expect.” Eric continued evenly, his eyes still downcast. “Discreetly, of course.”

“Servicing?! Eric, what are you talking about?”

“Sex.” Suddenly, her lover’s voice was full of venom. “Or did you plan to share me with your kind, charming Dracon? I’m sure he’d enjoy that.”

This time, Rose didn’t fight her urge to slap him, hard and across the face. 

“HOW CAN YOU DARE!”

He thought she had played with him all this time?! Rose was shocked at his obvious lack of trust, and furious about herself trusting him. Maybe she had been wrong, thinking it could work out between herself and her slave.

But Eric just stared at her, flatly, and then knelt down in front of her, his head bowed. 

This was all so wrong, so very wrong. She loved this man, her strong, caring Eric. How had it come to this? Was it all breaking apart like a dream at the first light of morning?

“ERIC!!” Rose knew her panic showed in her voice, and she couldn’t have cared less. “Eric what are you doing?!”

-

So that was it then. Back to reality. Back to being used and abused at his master’s whim. The happy time he had had with Rose seemed to compress to a tiny sliver suddenly while the rest of his live loomed large and dark.

He should have known better. Had known better. How dangerous it was to feel affection, to trust an owner. He had warned himself again and again against it but to no avail. He had walked into that trap with open eyes and now he was paying the prize as everything was yanked away again.

It would have been better if she had not bought him that day on the slave market, if he had died. It would have spared him this pain.

“Eric, how can you expect me to do anything right if you don’t talk to me!”

Her words barely penetrated the gloom that seemed to envelope him but here tone of voice tore at his heart. She was choking on tears. How could she be? She had done this to him. Why would she be crying? Why did the thought that he was making her cry hurt even more than everything she was doing to him?

“I am just trying to do everything right here.”

Stupid little girl! She was doing everything as wrong as anyone possibly could! How could she not see that? How could she not see how much she was hurting him and still care? But she did care. Oh, she did care. He wasn’t just a thing to her.

His hands were twitching as he tried to keep a hold of himself. Do not make that mistake yet again, he tried to reason with himself. Do not let her sway you.

“I am sorry if I hurt you, or if I ever gave you the impression that I ever wanted anything than to be happily together with you.” 

Such big words, but they ended in a single, desperate sob and it tore through Eric’s shaky defences. He knew he would regret it a million times, but he was helpless to resist. He couldn’t let her cry.

Before she could turn and walk away he grabbed her and pulled her back down into his arms.

“Oh god, what are you doing to me?” he whispered into her hair as she instantly relaxed against him.

“Damn you!” she sobbed and weakly hit his chest with her tiny, hard fist. “That’s what I wanted to ask.”

He just held her tightly, stroking her hair. There was no choice in loving her. He couldn’t just stop. He was utterly at her mercy.

-

Leaning heavily against Eric’s broad chest, Rose couldn’t help but cry, pouring out her heart. 

“I was just so happy that the man I have to marry isn’t a brutal pervert. If I have to marry someone, I’m happy to marry Karl,” she explained between sobs. 

It was true, she was happy to marry Karl. But there was something else that was true just as well, and that she hadn’t said clearly enough. “But if it were my choice, I’d rather be with you. Do you understand?”

Eric seemed to understand, finally, but none the less he seemed to struggle for words. “I...don’t want you to marry anyone.”

“That is... very sweet.” And futile. And so very adorable. “But that’s not my choice.“

Tucking Rose’s head under his chin so she felt entirely protected by him, they sat there in silence for a moment. 

“So what will happen to me?” Eric finally asked, softly. 

“I don’t know.” Rose whispered. “I really don’t know...”

What was there to do? What could possibly be done? There was no way around her marriage she could see, no way that wouldn’t unravel all the peace of the Empire. And there was no way she would ever let go of Eric. Not in a million years. 

“I don’t know if I can do this.” Eric said calmly after another moment of heavy silence. 

“Neither do I.” Rose’s reply came out with a desperate laugh. “But I am willing to try. I can’t imagine a life without you.”

Solemnly, Eric nodded. 

“I will try. For you. But you must promise me one thing,” he said, holding her by her shoulder so he could firmly look into her dark eyes. “Don’t sell me. If I can’t do this, kill me.”

“Oh god, Eric.” She had killed more people already than she could count, but Eric’s words filled her with horror. Never, she was about to say, never would I lay hands on you. But then, she caught herself. This was her Eric she was talking about, proud, caring Eric. She couldn’t possibly consider condemning him to a life of misery. She’d rather have his bloods on her hands than his broken heart on her conscience. 

The words took a conscious effort, but she knew she was doing the right thing, the only miserable right thing she could do, after all. “I swear.”

“Thank you,” Eric replied, smiling as if she had promised anything else but killing him. 

Physically and emotionally exhausted, Rose dropped her head once again against Eric’s chest. Was this really her life now? All this madness, the fighting, the insecurity, all this drama? 

For many years of her life, she had always laughed at the characters of ‘Even Nobles Cry’ for their overwrought troubles. Now she knew better. Reality was so much worse.


	14. Chapter 14

Deep in his thoughts, Lenny walked down the corridor that led to his brother’s apartment within the Imperial Palace. That was, he instantly corrected himself in his thoughts, Lady Rose’s apartment where she was living with her slave. The slave she probably had a torrid and very complicated love affair with. The slave who was also his brother and so very prone to doing all the wrong things for all the right reasons. 

Giving a deep sigh, Lenny wondered if he really was qualified for this task. Mother Sophia seemed convinced he was, and he really didn’t feel like arguing this point with her. And yet, it was still a very uncomfortable feeling to meddle in the love life of his brother and a noble lady. Things could go so horribly wrong as soon as nobles were involved. 

Turning around the last corner before Rose’s apartment, he stopped dead in his tracks. 

The door was standing wide open with Lady Rose standing in he doorframe, wearing her full, glittering green Malachite armour. But it wasn’t the admittedly striking van der Meer who had stopped Lenny – it was the tall man she was arguing with – the Consort himself, Prince Amadeus Habichtswald. 

Tall and blond, the Consort was handsome in that odd way that made him look utterly familiar despite the fact that he never wore the same outfit twice. Right now, he sported a pink silk shirt with ruffled pile of lace on the front, heavy olive cargo pants and tiny black lacquer boots. On his head at a precarious angle, he carried a pale, mauve colored suede hat with a brim as wide as his shoulders, topped with giant fluffy feather matching the disreputable pink of his shirt. On everybody else, this combination would have looked like a walking eyesore, but on him it was... outrageous, but still very him. 

Instinctively, Lenny had pressed himself flat against the wall, hoping that neither the Consort nor Lady Rose had seen him. And probably they hadn’t, as they were arguing wildly.

“…so we will go to take care of the dog now. Like RIGHT NOW!” the Consort exclaimed, gesturing urgently with his hands. 

“Dog, your Highness?“ 

Apparently, Lady Rose wasn’t too sure what her employer wanted her to do. Neither was Lenny, but then again, he had always tried to stay away from Nobles as far as possible. 

“Yes. The dog.” Prince Amadeus retorted flatly with a slightly surprised blink of his own. “I told you about the dog.”

“You did?”

“Last week. While I was bathing.”

So the Consort and Lady Rose talked about dogs while she guarded him in the bathtub? For a moment, Lenny wondered if it would be wise to maybe sneak away and miss the rest of the conversation. He had a feeling he had heard way too much already. 

“With all due respect, you were talking to me for five hours straight,” Rose returned evenly, as if stating a fact and not delivering an insult. “Which dog are we talking about again?”

“Rose.” Prince Amadeus pinched the ridge of his nose with enough drama to fill a stage with. “I was explaining in elaborate detail why that dog is so important and you are telling me you didn’t listen?”

“You weren’t talking about any dog, Sir,” Rose replied firmly, still not sounding as meek as she should in Lenny’s eyes. 

“Well… yes, I was…” the Consort admitted, somewhat flustered. “I told you about little Sirtha, the daughter of that servant girl… remember? Who works for the cousin of the Contessa Caravaggio…”

“I remember the servant girl…” With a hopeful note in her voice, Lady Rose asked, “Is this about the orchid breeders convention on Espen, Sir?”

But her liege lord only gave a deep sigh that spoke of a lot of work he had before him. 

“No, darling… that was on Friday.” Most unexpectedly, he sounded actually rather kind to Lenny. “Never mind… the point is we really need to hurry to get there in time so you really need to get dressed right NOW!”

“I will, Sir,” Rose replied instantly, now sounding as professional as Lenny had gotten used to her. “Dresscode?”

“Certainly something less extravagant than this,” the Consort replied after he had looked Rose up and down. “Do you have something… badly disguised Toscan undercover guard would do nicely.”

A little less extravagant? Lenny could hardly believe his ears. The Malachite armour sure was as conspicuous as they came, but did the Consort even know how he was dressed right now? After all, he was the one wearing seven different colours, all clashing so violently that one could neither look at him directly nor look away. 

Lady Rose seemed to be equally taken aback by the Consort’s demand, but she caught herself in an instant. 

“Just a second, Sir. I’ll be right back.”

Turning around on her heels, Lady Rose disappeared back into her apartment, leaving the Consort standing alone in the hallway in front of her closed door. 

Though Prince Amadeus wasn’t absolutely alone in the hall, as Lenny remembered only half a second too late when the Consort turned around to face him. 

“Oh hi! Who are you?”

For a long moment, Lenny was tempted to turn around and run. Being noticed by a Noble almost never was a good thing, and being noticed by the Consort could only spell doom in the most flamboyant way possible. But to his own surprise, he remained standing where he was, and instead of running, he actually managed a mostly graceful bow. 

“I am Lenny, your Highness. I am with the Aroona chapel here in the palace. And I am here to pick up Lady van der Meer’s pet.”

“So you work with Mother Sophia?” the Consort asked with a smile, the feather on his hat bobbing merrily. For a second, his face seemed to be frozen in thoughts, then he turned on a wide, beaming smile. “Oh, I remember, you are the slave boy she considers for novice training. Congratulations!”

“Huh?!” 

There was little more that Lenny could think of to say in that instant. Why in all the empire did the Consort know him? And why did he talk about novice training? What the hell was going on here?

“Oh no, she didn’t tell you yet, did she?” the Consort exclaimed in dramatic but oddly credible embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to spoil the surprise! Please don’t tell her or she’ll have my hide.”

“I sure won’t tell a word, your Highness.” Whatever he had expected the Consort to be like in person, this sure wasn’t it. Novice training? He probably ought to say something nice, Lenny reminded himself. Best not appear ungrateful, whatever they had actually just happened here. “Thank you, though, your Highness.”

“You are most welcome,” Prince Amadeus replied. 

He was just about to add something else as Lady Rose reappeared. At least, Lenny was reasonably sure that the woman entering the hallway through the door of Lady Rose’s flat was indeed her. Only a few minutes ago, she had been a petite but nevertheless predatorial lieutenant of the Malachite Guard. Now in her place, there was a short woman in a dusty, red leather jacket and equally dusty blue jeans over worn-out black boots. Rose’s usually immaculate hair was loosely bundled up in a weirdly messy hairdo that somehow managed to look as dusty as her jacket and was being held up by one of those wide combs Castella ladies favoured in her outfits. 

“Yes, this will do nicely,” the Consort remarked after another thorough inspection. Then he turned around and tipped the brim of his hat to Lenny. “Have a wonderful day with your brother!”

Barely waiting before Lady Rose had had enough time to give Lenny an acknowledging nod, the Consort dashed off, leaving behind a trail of his perfume and a very confused young Aroona slave. 

Had he really just met the Consort? Already, the whole moment seemed surreal to Lenny. He knew me, maybe not by name, but still. And he knew Eric is my brother. Did he know about their heritage, too? Would he keep it a secret? After all, he was a Habichtswald himself. Probably Rose had told him about Eric and his brother. Hopefully Rose had. 

Taking a deep breath, Lenny calmed his thoughts. Whatever the Consort knew or did not know, it wasn’t his business today. He was here to show his brother the Imperial Chapel, and get him to talk a little about his relationship with Lady Rose in the process. All else would have to wait. 

Taking another deep breath, he braced himself and entered Lady Rose’s apartment through the still-open door. 

“Eric, are you in here somewhere?”

-

Eric looked up from the somewhat amusing task of picking up the armour parts Rose had dropped on her way from the front door to her dressing room. They were littered all over the hallway as if a huge green bug had suddenly decided to ditch its shell while running down the hallway. Which was a rather apt description of what had happened.

“I’m here,” he answered his Lenny who had just walked in, smiling at his little brother’s surprised expression, “just gotta clean up a little, Rose had to get re-dressed in a hurry.”

“I… noticed.” Lenny answered, sounding a little shaky, “I met the consort in the hallway.”

He seemed genuinely shaken by the experience which amused Eric. The first time he had opened the front door and found a beaming Imperial Consort outside had been shocking to him as well. The second time had been no less shocking, though. 

Then it had happened five times in a row in the same night with the Consort waking them up again and again for some silly reason. He had allowed a progressively groggier Rose to go talk to him four times. The fifth time he had told the Consort in polite but firm words that his mistress really needed to sleep now and he should talk to her in the morning when she was back on duty.

He had been pleased when the Consort had proved that Eric hadn’t misjudged his character. He had just as politely apologised for disturbing them, wished them a good night and left. 

It was actually quite hard to remind himself that this man had betrayed House Habichtswald and joined with the enemy. That this was one of the two most powerful men in the Empire. That this was the man who was generally regarded as incomprehensible, impossible and plain outrageous. The man Rose complained about almost non-stop. He was just so likeable.

But of course, Lenny looked like this had been his first in person meeting with Prince Amadeus and he obviously needed some distraction from the harrowing experience.

“I don’t even want to know what they are up to now, though I fear Rose won’t hesitate to share all of it over dinner.” Eric said while heaping his arms with as many armour parts as he could carry and then taking them to the dressing room. “Can you please bring the greaves and boots?” He gave his brother something to do.

“Sure!” Lenny picked up the last few items and followed Eric to the dressing room. “The consort knew I we are brothers,” he then said conspiringly. 

“He did?” Eric stopped putting the armour parts in a nice heap to look at his brother. That wasn’t really anything he wanted anyone to know. But maybe Rose had told him. He had no idea why she should, but then he rarely was sure what was going on in her head. After all, she was also dating a Dracon Duke.

Angrily, he shoved that thought back to the dark corner of his mind he had banned it to. He really didn’t want to think about that now. He wanted to spend a pleasant afternoon with his baby brother. Lenny’s next words worked wonders in distracting him from his problems.

“And he said Mother Sophia considers me for novice training…” Lenny said, his sweet brown eyes big and disbelieving.

Eric only needed a moment to process that bit of information and all its consequences. Dropping the last armour parts, he wrapped his brother in a bear hug. “But that GREAT!” he exclaimed. “You’ll be free!”

Lenny made a slightly strangled sound and Eric eased up on his grip. “Well, I don’t think there’s going to be much of a difference in that regard…” Lenny said, as usually oblivious to how great the difference between being a slave and being free really was. But then he never had been free, so he couldn’t know. “But thanks!” Lenny continued, smiling up at Eric. “That is, as long as the consort is right. And he usually is, I guess, isn’t he?”

Eric had no doubt that the Consort wouldn’t have said anything if he wasn’t sure.

“Of course there will be a huge difference!” He gently told Lenny. “You’ll be safe! Being a member of the church is the next best thing to being noble. Even if it’s that church of yours…”

Eric still had trouble accepting that his brother was working at an Aroona temple. He had put some time into learning more about this branch of the church and he had to admit that their chosen work sounded like they were truly doing good things. And Lenny seemed to genuinely enjoy his work. It just felt so disreputable.

“Thank you, Eric.” Lenny answered with a lopsided grin.

Eric smiled back at him “You know what I mean.” He said. “And it’s definitely better than you becoming a Belligra!”

He couldn’t even imagine his tiny, slender brother stomping around in heavy Belligra full battle armour. Or in a creepy red Verata robe, for that matter. All options considered, Temple Aroona certainly was the best choice for his gentle brother.

“Glad you agree.” Lenny said and freed himself from Eric’s hug. “Are we ready now?” he asked, eyeing the dressing room with a slight twitch to his hands as if he physically had to keep himself from cleaning up the mess Rose had left behind. 

It still amazed Eric that his brother who hadn’t even bothered tying his sandals when he was small now had trouble ignoring any kind of chaos or dirt or even a neglected plant. This at least was definitely a good change the Aroona had wrought on him.

Eric surveyed the room himself. It looked like a tornado had passed through, throwing clothing and costume pieces all over the place. Which wasn’t so wrong an imagine considering how Rose had quickly checked and mostly discarded what looked like half of her extensive wardrobe during her speedy change in appearance.

With firm insistence, Eric pushed Lenny out of the room and closed the door behind them. Only Rose would know where exactly she wanted which item, so there really was no point and trying to clean up her mess.

“Let’s go.” he said, amused by Lenny’s uncomfortable look back at the closed door.

-

It was hard to leave all that unfinished work behind, but then again, his brother was right. Probably Lady Rose had a secret system for how to hang her clothes, and he really didn’t want to make her angry. Also, he was here to get some more information on her relationship with his brother, not on her wardrobe. 

Finally pulling away from the thought, he smiled at Eric. 

“Come on, it is this way,” he explained eagerly, waiting for his brother in the hallway. “There should be an elevator somewhere here that leads down to ground level.”

“Why do we go down to ground level?” Eric asked while carefully checking he had locked all the extra locks on Lady Rose’s apartment door. “I thought the chapel was somewhere above food court?”

“Yeah. But I bet your mistress hasn’t had the time to give you the scenic tour of the palace?” Also, taking the scenic route would give him a little more time to talk to his brother. “I bet she has shown you all the emergency exits and where she has hidden the spare ammunition and the parachutes, but did you even see the throne room?”

For a heartbeat, Lenny worried that his last remark had been too mocking, but Eric’s low groan told him he hadn’t even covered half of the truth. 

“You don’t even want to know what kind of precautions Rose has put in place…” hesitating for a second, he asked, “Are we even allowed in the throne room? I mean, can anybody just walk in there?”

“As long as the Emperor is not in session, it’s just another huge hall,” Lenny replied with a shrug. “It’s not as if it’s one of the important rooms, anyway.” Looking up at his brother, he could see that Eric still wasn’t entirely convince. “I promise I’ll only take us to public places.“

“As long as we don’t leave the palace Rose will hopefully not have a heart attack…”

Suddenly, Lenny realized that Eric had been referring to Lady Rose by first name only all the time. So, maybe they were further along with their relationship than Lenny had hoped. Or feared, for that matter. 

“So, how’s it going with ‘Rose’ anyway?” he dared to prod his brother in the right direction. 

But Eric didn’t answer right away. Unwilling to press any further right now, Lenny decided to wait until his brother would talk in is own time. As Mother Sophia had said – if they want to talk, you just need to give them the opportunity. Maybe Eric just needed a little longer to see that opportunity. 

So they continued their walk in silence, out of the elevator and through the main corridor out into the palace’s garden hexant, the huge public park that was wedged between the palace’s outer walls and the gate spoke. As one of the few areas of the palace accessible to the general public, it was never a truly deserted place. But as it measured almost half a mile across, one hardly came across another person here. 

And what a beautiful place it was. Huge trees formed little copses among the carefully landscaped park, sculpted moss hedges creating secluded corners everywhere. An artificial creek was running down the length of the hexant, pooling in a beautiful lake at the foot of the Phoenix Knight tower. Pretty much in the middle of the park, an area was set apart with flower beds that showed off plants from all over the Empire, carefully tended by a veritable host of specialized gardeners. It was Emperor Hyperion’s rose garden, even though actual roses made up only a minute fraction of the flowers on display. It was a breathtaking sight, and its fame as one of the most beautiful gardens in the Empire was well deserved. 

After a few steps on the gravel path of the park, Eric finally gave a soft sigh, rubbing his brow unhappily. 

“She is getting married.”

Another new development. And apparently, a bad one, thought Lenny couldn’t really see why his brother loathed it so. Had he really thought Rose would marry him?

“And… that’s a bad thing?” he asked cautiously. 

“Of course that’s a bad thing,” Eric replied, low but slightly snappy. 

“Why? Is her husband abusive or anything?”

“Her “husband to be” will be very much dead if I ever see him even touch her…” Eric muttered under his breath, hardly intelligible. 

As much as Lenny hated the implications of that sentiment, he had to ask, had to make sure he was getting the right picture of this mess his brother was getting himself into. 

“Are you… envious?”

-

Eric looked at his brother, carefully considering what to say next. Some part of him didn’t want to talk about Rose at all. He wanted to be blissfully unaware of the catastrophe-in-waiting that his relationship with his mistress truly was. He wanted to spend a few hours with his brother, just revelling in the fact that he had found him again and that Lenny was well.

He also didn’t want to bother Lenny with his fucked up life.

But neither of those notions were fair to Lenny. He was the only family he still had, and while everyone else might call them slaves, Eric still keenly felt his heritage. And that didn’t include hiding problems from your family. 

“I believe the word is ‘jealous’,” he finally said, surprised at how much venom was in his own words.

“So there IS something going on between the two of you.” Lenny stated and Eric wasn’t sure if his brother was delighted or horrified.

It was quite the understatement, too. Rose was the love of his life and now that he allowed his emotions to boil up from where he had locked them, he felt like he needed to punch something, or preferably, a certain someone.

“He has no fucking business touching what is fucking MINE!” he hissed, barely able to contain his need to shout it out loud for everyone to hear.

Lenny clearly picked up on his fury as he took an involuntary step away from him. 

“All right…” he said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “You remember that raising your hand against a Noble will get you killed?”

How to explain that getting himself killed didn’t look like such a bad option anymore? Lenny surely wouldn’t understand that and wouldn’t want to hear it. And Eric was all too aware that he had no right to abandon his baby brother yet again. He had to try and bear it. He had promised Rose. And Lenny needed him.

The only problem was that every time he even thought about that freakish Dracon touching Rose, his hands curled to fists so hard he cut his palms with his fingernails.

“Indeed, I do,” he answered his brother’s question with a bitter laugh.

“Right…” Clearly at a loss how to deal with his emotionally unstable brother, Lenny scanned the surrounding gardens. 

Eric could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to find a subject that would not further enrage his brother. 

“Well, here we are in the rose garden Emperor Hyperion had planted after his coronation in 5001.” Lenny explained in a perfect tour guide voice which made Eric want to bang his head against something hard or punch his brother. “Some of the roses have been here even before that, having been brought from Shiraz by the mother of Emperor Alexander. Since then, the collection has been expanded to include the most beautiful flowers from all over the Empire.”

They leisurely strolled down pathways between the beautiful flowers while Lenny droned on about this or that plant and how it had come to be here and gradually his voice and the entirely boring stuff he was saying managed to calm Eric. 

The scent of the roses brought back other memories, even longer buried. Of his mother, standing in her own garden, tending to her flowers with all the love and care and precision she had also shown her son. How beautiful and regal she had looked to him, tall and resplendent in her long, wine red dress, with all the ruffles and billowing skirt.

He remembered running up to her to show her a colourful bug he had caught by the stream close to the estate. She had smiled at him proudly and thanked him. He must have been five years old maybe.

-

Carefully observing his brother during his elaborations about the garden and its history, Lenny had to suppress a smile at seeing how Eric slowly relaxed. He was getting the hang of handling people’s emotions, after all. Maybe Mother Sophia was right, and he was qualified for the job. 

“They remind me of mother’s garden,” Eric suddenly said after a long while of silence. 

“They must have been really beautiful.”

“I never paid much attention.” With deep sadness, Eric looked around, adding almost guiltily, “I thought plants were boring.”

“I am so sorry.“

“No, I am sorry you never got to meet her.” Gently patting Lenny’s arm, he seemed literally weighed down by his mistakes. “You should have had a mother, not some useless elder brother who disappeared when you most needed him.”

Only in the very last moment, Lenny managed to suppress an exasperated eye roll. Eric really was great at wallowing in misery, he realized. Time to get him out of that. 

“You were far from useless, and you know that,” he replied lightly but firmly. “It would have been nice to know our mother, but I never really missed her. I had you.”

It seemed to have worked, Lenny noted. Eric still didn’t exactly smile, but at least he wasn’t looking so hunched over any longer. For another while, they continued their walk in mutual silence, until they left the garden hexant for the ground level of the palace’s main spire. 

“So you will be a proper priest one day…” Eric suddenly remarked with no nudging by Lenny at all. “That is so strange…”

“The only thing strange about that is that it feels quite right with me…” he replied with a light shrug. 

“I think you’ll do well,” Eric commented, this time looking at his younger brother with something like pride in his eyes. “You are good at caring”

“Thank you.” Now that Eric was talking again, Lenny thought he might dare another attempt at getting some more important information out of his taciturn brother. “Does Rose know you’re in love with her?”

Eric only grimaced as if in pain. 

“Yes.”

That was not much in terms of information, but still better than nothing, Lenny thought. 

“And… does she share your feelings?”

“Yes.”

“Right…” Getting information out of his brother seemed to be significantly harder than expected, Lenny found. And what little information he got was far from uplifting. Of course his brother would have to get into the biggest trouble possible, Lenny told himself silently, and of course he insists on facing the trouble all alone. 

Not wanting to make a hasty misstep that would make Eric’s already strained temper explode, Lenny was happy when they finally reached the throne room in the centre of the main spire’s ground floor. 

A giant, hemispherical hall with an ornately fluted ceiling, the throne room was set up in a way that if the Emperor was sitting on the throne at one end of the hall, he would theoretically be able to look right down the main hallways of the gate spoke up to the main gate. The Phoenix Throne itself was a gargantuan, gold-and-orange contraption, with the back shaped like the wings of a Phoenix taking flight, the space between them positioned so that the burning wings framed the Emperor’s head like a golden halo. Immensely impressive, overwrought, and probably terribly uncomfortable. 

But right now, the place was completely deserted, except for two men working some kind of polishing machine in one corner, bringing the dark stone floor up to new mirror-shine finish. 

“So, this is the throne room,” Lenny returned to his tour guide routine, “and judging by the cleaning crew, there will be some kind of official session here this afternoon.” 

Pointing at some deep pits and two long, cracked scratches in the otherwise immaculate floor, he added: 

“Look, over here you can see the marks in the floor where Emperor Hyperion killed Lord Carnington.”

-

Lenny’s ability to suddenly switch from nosy little brother to cheerful tour guide unnerved Eric to no end. He knew Lenny was doing it to distract him from his dark thoughts, but it was actually rather creepy.

So he refrained from saying anything to this weird introduction to the huge throne room, even though he had to admit it was quite impressive. Certainly not a place he wanted to stay any longer than absolutely necessary.

“Not really interesting, huh?” Lenny asked with a perfectly polite, apologetic smile as if his previous questions about Eric and Rose had never existed. Somehow, Eric was sure he would soon be interrogated again. “Well, we’ll take an elevator up to the chapel next.” Lenny continued as if nothing was wrong at all and gestured towards another exit at the side of the grand hall.

They made their way across the wide floor as quietly as possible, which was relatively easy considering the throne room was build with amazing acoustics. It was a place for the Emperor to be heard, an no one else. Only when they had reached the elevator Lenny had led them to and were safely inside and on their way up did Lenny speak again and just like Eric had expected, it was another question about Rose.

“If she loves you too, then why does she want to marry?”

At least, this Eric had an answer for Lenny could not argue about, as much as Eric himself hated the facts.

“Apparently it’s an arranged marriage which is part of the ‘Concord of P2’,” he explained. “And if she doesn’t, the Empire will be plunged back into war.”

‘Not that I give a damn about this Empire’, he sarcastically added in his thoughts, ‘it could all burn and go to hell if only I get to keep my Rose.’ But he didn’t say that aloud. He could well imagine his brother’s reproachful look.

“That is… complicated.” Lenny said hesitantly, summing up the whole mess quite nicely. “Do you know who she has been promised to?”

Apparently there was no end to his curiosity. But again, Eric saw no harm in answering truthfully. After all, there really was nothing his brother would be able to do.

“Duke Karl of Del’Morad.” He said, not really surprised that his tone suggested he could just as well have said ‘the devil’. He hated the other man with a passion that he thought he had reserved for those bastard Dracon who had raped his mother and brother. Apparently there was always room for one more Dracon on his mental ‘torture, mutilate and kill’ list.

“Duke…” Lenny nearly choked on the word, now realizing how terrible the situation really was. It took him a moment to form his next question which Eric watched with grim amusement. “Does Rose know you’re planning to kill her husband?”

Eric’s answer was out of his mouth before he even knew what he was saying. “Husband to be!” he growled. That dirty asshole was not Rose’s husband yet! He drew a deep breath, trying to regain his calm, reminding himself of his promise to Rose. “And no, she doesn’t know. I promised I would try to bear it. And I will.” He added.

Lenny looked up at him with all the doubt he had every right to feel. “Yeah. But we both know you will try and fail, right?” he said cautiously.

There was only one truthful answer to that. “Yes.”

“Wonderful.” His brother ran his fingers through his unruly curls with a deep sigh. “I am sure we’ll find a way to sort that out.” He then proclaimed with hopeful enthusiasm that was entirely lost on Eric.


	15. Chapter 15

The place was damp and warm; the smell of mould and wet concrete mixing with sweat, beer and vomit. The ceiling was low; more often than not, rusty patches showed where water was leaking in. 

Karl had to suppress an excited smile. 

This was a real sh’been, an undercity pub of the worst kind, and it was right out of the book in Karl's eyes. The music was loud and grinding, the clientele shady, and there even was a cage in a sunken section of the floor for sorting out the obviously regular disputes in the proper fashion. He loved the place. 

It was dangerous to be here, irresponsible. And it was pure fun.

"Now that is what I always imagined an illegal undercity sh’been to look like!" he yelled across the din, toasting his bottle of beer towards Leesha. 

The other noble looked very much like belonging in this place. The Dracon heritage in his handsome features gave him the look and stance of a beautiful nocturnal predator, and he obviously liked to play the part. Wearing tight black leather pants and large leather jacket, his hair a huge, dark-green braid on his shoulders, he stood out in the crowd in a way that ensured they had as much room to themselves as physically possible. Leesha was even wearing their house's crest on the back of his jacket in the shape of a huge, ruby-studded dragon. And in this place, as far away from any kind of authority as it was, it could only be considered a calculated provocation. 

Nonchalantly, he leaned over to Karl so he wouldn't have to scream all the time.

"Glad you like it. It's one of the regular waterholes of my brother Veru, sometimes he even gets into the cage."

"Now does he?" 

Swiftly, Karl invested a second look at the mangled contraption that went for a cage in this place. It looked appalling, dirty and a like a perfect way to get yourself killed in the most demeaning way possible to a noble. 

"But WHY?"

His incredulous question was answered with a bright laughter from Leesha.

"He enjoys busting heads I guess... never underestimate him, he's half Coron after all."

Even with the colourful genetic background of Leesha's unique patchwork family in mind, it still sounded quite weird. After all, Veruda was heir to the throne of the duke of P2, and after all Karl knew, he was already acting as a stand-in for his father... or mother, or whatever he called the hermaphrodite Duke. Or Duchess. It seemed so... irresponsible. 

Calmly watching the scenery, Karl finished his bottle of an undistinguishable brand. And like all other patrons, he hurled it into the cage, where it just blended with the other debris on the floor. 

A moment later, two men entered the cage under the deafening cheer of the crowd, apparently on their way to settle a matter once and for all. Much to his own surprise, Karl found himself really looking forward to the fight. And it didn't help his attempts at remaining responsible when Leesha suddenly said:

"Actually I have considered trying it..."

"I bet you did." It would really be true to this little rodent if he had, Karl thought with a shake of his head. Suddenly, he felt very old in comparison to his friend. "I am afraid I have become too grown-up for something like that..."

-

Leesha eyed his old friend thoughtfully. Karl had indeed changed a lot since Kalidor. When Karl had shown up at the office the other day, Leesha would have guessed him to be a man in his late thirties, if he hadn't known him so well. He had thought that it only was the severe uniform of a Dracon Duke, paired with a matching severe face that only relaxed when he smiled. But even now, when Karl was wearing comfortable dark jeans and a matching shirt did he look much older then he was. He looked... adult, serious - like a man who had forgotten how to have fun. But that surely was something that could be remedied.

"All that responsibility, eh?" he asked with a fiendish grin. "A grown sensible man you have become, my friend." he added, making it sound like an insult.

"Boring, you mean." Karl snorted with a tiny sad smirk. "It is hard risking things when so many people depend on you." he then tried to explain, again looking very serious.

Leesha shook his head. Here was a guy who would tremendously profit from spending some time with the master of madness, Prince Amadeus. Maybe that would teach him that one could be an insanely irresponsible bastard and still serve the public perfectly well. As that was not an option it would have to be Leesha, who tried to make him see it. 

"Karl... you still gotta live somewhere in between managing your planet and staying alive... what's the point of it all if you don't?" Leesha tried to explain.

Again Karl put on that sad smirk. "And what is the point of living for a moment when the prize is the life and happiness of half a billion people?" he asked, sounding suspiciously like it was a line he had picked up from someone else. Probably his mother.

With a soft sigh Leesha put his hands on Karl's shoulder. Someone would have to tell him eventually. "Karl, my dear, I hate to break the news to you but..." he said very seriously, "you are NOT irreplaceable. If you fuck up, someone else will take over."

That produced a pout that looked much more like the young Karl back from Kalidor. "Thanks. Right what I needed." the young duke drawled. But he visibly relaxed and put his hands around Leesha's waist holding him tightly.

With a happy grin Leesha folded his hands behind Karl's neck. "I know you love me." he said with a wink.

"Yeah sure." Karl snorted but it was quite clear how right Leesha was as Karl leaned forward and gently kissed his nose. "Rodent."

"Yeah that's me..." Leesha grinned. Then he changed the subject to the next most important thing on his mind concerning Karl. "Soooo... how was your date with Rose?"

Karl's reaction startled Leesha as it was the most carefree laugh he had ever heard from his friend. "Lovely, can you believe that?" Karl smiled, looking genuinely happy. "Goodness, of all people, I meet my fiancé and seriously like her."

"Do you now..." That was not quite what Leesha had hoped to hear. No, that wasn't right - of course he was happy that Karl was happy. But there also was the nagging knowledge that Rose already had a certain someone in her life. Leesha had no idea how that was supposed to work out if Karl was seriously falling in love with Rose. And he was very sure that Rose had no idea either. "And did she like you too?" he asked, trying to gather more information before he formed a plan of action.

"I don't know. I hope so." Karl again laughed, a little nervously now, very much sounding like a teenager with his first crush. That truly didn't bode well. "Didn't you talk to her?" he asked, eyeing Leesha hopefully, "I mean, you're her friend? She surely said something to you, didn't she?" He looked positively excited, obviously expecting a favourable answer.

"Well..." Leesha considered his next words carefully "She doesn't talk about her emotions if she can avoid it... she's rather reserved." he then said, which wasn't untrue at all. She hadn't lost a word about her date with Karl. But there had been other signs. With a slight frown he remembered Rose drifting by like a very sad, very agitated ghost and Ashleigh commenting that she looked like she had 'domestic troubles'.

"Is she? She struck me as calm and polite but not really reserved. We talked about a lot of things." Karl commented, oblivious to Leesha's thoughts. "Actually, she seemed honestly thrilled to get out of the tower for a change. And she really didn't say anything?"

How to break this to Karl without hurting him? "She didn't SAY anything, no..."

-

Of course the little rodent had to be playing games with him. 

"But... she wrote something?" Karl asked, still not really getting the point of Leesha's reluctance to talk about his fiancé. 

"Er... no..." Despite the place and the subject, the other noble seemed dead serious "Karl... are you falling in love with her?"

"Yeah, of course I am. That is what I am talking of the whole time." 

It was a wonder beyond words and a gift beyond imagination. His fiancé was someone he could fall in love with, in complete disregard of common odds. What else should he be talking of?

"Uhm... and I guess she didn't mention anything about... someone else?"

For a whole moment, Karl thought he had just misunderstood what Leesha had said. It couldn't be. Rose, his lovely Rose, promised to him since they were kids, loving someone else? But the little rodent didn't look like he was teasing him for once. 

"What do you mean, someone else?!"

"Well... another man."

Somehow, Leesha seemed almost glad it was out now. And understandably so. If he had known there was something wrong in Rose's life, as her friend, and as Karl's friend, it must have been some heavy pressure on him. 

"No..." Blinking rapidly, he tried to sort out this new and very unpleasant development. "I had no idea... is it, I mean, is it serious?"

Much to Karl's dismay, Leesha sighed deeply. 

"As I said before, she doesn't talk about her emotions unless forced to do so but... yes... I had the impression it was pretty serious."

"Oh." Suddenly, all the energy his feelings for Rose had given him seemed do disappear, leaving nothing but a bitter taste in his mouth. "I didn't know... So she just put on a show for me, didn't she?"

-

To see Karl's face fall was as painful as Leesha had imagined it would be. Inwardly Leesha cursed himself and Rose for the fact that he was the one who had to tell Karl. For a long moment he was tempted to say yes. Maybe destroying any hope Karl might nurture would be better than having him hoping and then being disappointed in the end. But that wouldn't be fair. Not to Karl and not to Rose. He couldn't make this decision for them.

"No... I think she likes you too," Leesha said slowly, "I mean how could anybody not like you? I'm just guessing but I'd say she has a crush on you. And OF COURSE she will marry you, after all she is van der Meer, duty is everything to her." 

Somehow Leesha hoped Karl would see what a bad idea it would be to marry Rose when she didn't love him but that was probably asking too much. Karl's next words showed him how right he was.

"Of course we will marry." Karl growled and shoved Leesha away rather rudely. Obviously he was rapidly reaching the end of his patience. "But... I..." angrily the Dracon duke ran is hands through his hair, glaring at Leesha. "She is someone I could LOVE, Leesha! Really, deeply, LOVE, not only marry because it is our duty!"

He looked unhappy and helplessly angry. A dangerous mix. And Leesha understood perfectly what was going on in his heart. But there really was no easy solution to this dilemma.

"That is why I am telling you this," he said softly, trying to get through to Karl, "You need to know what you are getting into and I don't think Rose is capable of sorting her emotions and her endless mortifications right now..."

"Mortifications?"

Leesha shrugged. That was the only word that really fit Rose on his mind. "She gets mortified over all sorts of things. She's an expert at that..." he tried to explain.

Slowly the sudden despair was disappearing from Karl's face again, giving way to a calculating look. "Really? Well, yes, that suits the picture." 

Leesha could almost see what was going through his friend's head. How he was reviewing his assets and trying to figure out how to best win Rose love 

"Do you mean I still have chances against the other guy?" Karl asked.

"I..." That was a hard question. A very hard question. There was no doubt in Leesha's mind that Rose loved her slave. Her emotions were deep and ran true. It was not a passing infatuation. But Rose was - despite all her faults - a strong person. One who might just be able to love her slave and still find a way to love Karl as well. With some gentle pushing of course. 

"That is not so easily answered..." Leesha said slowly, "To win her heart? Maybe."

"What else is there to win?" Karl asked, oblivious to Leesha's train of thought. "We'll marry anyway... or won't we? Do you know more than I in that case?"

Leesha sighed softly. "Ah no, unless you send her away in shame you will certainly get married..." He was pretty sure that Karl would not react favourably to his next suggestion but he had to try. At least once. After all it was a perfectly normal arrangement in a Dracon marriage for both partners to have multiple pets. Though Karl’s obvious jealousy at the mere mention of another man in Rose’s life didn’t give him much hope. "You could... share her?"

-

"HWAT?!" 

The word was out so fast his voice almost keeled over. Who did that little rodent think he was?

"Uh... yeah..." Leesha stammered, a mix of guilt and amusement on his face. "Thought so..."

"SHARE MY WIFE??!"

Karl wasn't just out of words, he felt out of thoughts on this outrageous suggestion. 

"It was just a thought man, calm down. You aren't even married yet... I was just thinking that maybe it would go easier on HER heart."

"On her heart? What about my heart?" Right now, Karl just felt raving anger, and very little patience to give it a second thought. "We're promised to each other, and she goes around loving someone else? Who is that bastard anyway? I'll blow his head off..."

"Yeah... that will go a long way in winning her affection..."

Leesha's snarky comment slammed into Karl's furious thoughts like a snowplough. Sure enough, the little rodent had nailed the problem. If he really was trying to gain Rose's heart for himself, he damn better came up with a better solution than killing the one she currently loved. Women usually didn't take things like that too well. 

"I hate you." Karl snapped back at Leesha, for pulling him out of his righteous and blissfully unreflecting anger. Redirecting his ire towards the next best target, he turned towards the ramshackle bar, bellowing: "BEER!"

"FAST!!" Leesha added after a deep sigh, and not to be outdone, Karl upped the ante by adding a yelled:

"VODKA!"

Out of the badly lit chaos, a stunningly ugly waitress appeared, and barked back at them:

"Shut up you sick fucks, you'll get it when it's ready."

There was only one way Karl could react to this - so he did his best impression of ignoring the waitress, and even louder yelled towards the bar:

"SERVICE!"

As it had to be expected, someone in the sh’been didn't take favourably to his hangout being treated like this. A half-empty bottle of beer was hurled in Karl's direction, and he only barely managed to avoid the projectile. 

Swiftly throwing a sideway glance towards Leesha, Karl confirmed that his fellow Kalidor student was right at his side. Then, in complete keeping with the location and in complete disregard of his previous resolution to remain sensible, he hurled himself at the attacker. Well, at least he hurled himself at the guy he thought who had thrown the bottle, but right then that was somewhat beside the point.

~ a little later ~

The yelling, cursing and shouting from inside the bar swept outside into the dark alley as Leesha yanked open the backdoor and ran outside with Karl and a few other people who were still fast and stable enough on their feet to escape the Ducal Crescent guards who were entering the building from the front.

What had started as a good natured bar fight had turned into a full fledged brawl of everyone against everyone. Karl and he had fought back to back with the practiced ease they had acquired on Kalidor. It had been great fun. Leesha had taken a nasty kick, but the two broken ribs had already healed by now.

Grabbing Karl's arm he pulled his friend along, running through the dark alleys, dodging various garbage heaps. Better to get away from where the Crescents might pick them up. Leesha didn't want to be arrested and bailed out by his father.

Finally he stopped, out of breath and laughing at the same time. There was the taste of blood from his split lip but it didn't bother him at all. It would be healed in half a minute. Hopefully Karl had fared as well.

He looked at his friend and realized that he had not seen this healthy sparkle in Karl's eyes since... well... actually he was pretty sure he had never seen Karl so aglow with life. Slowly catching his breath as well Karl was grinning widely. Carefully he felt at the blood on his brow, obviously checking if it was his own.

"Is that your idea of evening entertainment?" he asked, still grinning.

Leesha returned the grin. "You seem amused enough." he answered, still a little out of breath.

"Oh, I am!" Karl's voice was exuberant. "Didn't feel this alive since, well, since I left Kalidor." 

And he looked plain delicious saying that. Without thinking Leesha grabbed his friend and pressed him back against the dirty, moist wall of the alley, then captured his mouth in a hot kiss. He was high on adrenaline and it felt great.

Karl didn't hesitate at all in returning that kiss, his passion matching Leesha's easily. He smelled of smoke and beer and sweat and blood. Leesha could feel all his hard muscles under his skin were their bodies were pressed together. One of his hands grabbed Karl's hair hard to fix his head for more kisses while the other dropped to Karl's ass to knead his firm flesh.

This time there was a moment of hesitation, a moment when Leesha just had the time to think that Karl would try to act sensible. But then that thought was drowned as Karl renewed their kiss, his tongue hot and demanding in Leesha's mouth. And Karl's other hand was suddenly busy unbuckling Leesha's belt.

"I DID miss you!" Leesha growled into Karl's ear. This was so very different from the gentle closeness he shared with his pets. This was wild and unfettered lust. And right now this was exactly what they both needed. Almost with a life of their own Leesha's hands found their way down to Karl's pants, tearing at them.

Karl's laugh was choked with passion. His attention to Leesha's neck were more bites then kisses but Leesha didn't mind one bit. Just as he didn't mind at all when one of Karl's hands dived into his pants to grab his rapidly hardening cock. With a throaty growl he let his head fall back, bucking into Karl's hand. But that didn't stop him from finally getting into Karl's pants too and roughly fondling his ass.

There was fire in both their eyes as they ferociously grinned at each other. Their next kiss was as much biting as actual kissing.

Karl tried to reverse their places, to turn Leesha around so he would face the wall and offer Karl unhindered access to his ass but Leesha resisted. Not because he didn't want Karl to fuck him. Hell, no! But a tiny bit of resistance was part of the game.

He again grabbed Karl's head by the hair and looked at him hard. "You think so?" he growled.

-

"Yes, definitely." Karl heard his own voice, coarse with desire. But even in his clouded mind, buzzing with adrenaline and lust, the old demons were rearing their ugly heads. Trust never came easy, even if it was Leesha who was concerned. "First round is mine." 

Apparently, he had hit a nerve with Leesha, for the other noble laughed out loud. With little resistance, he let himself be turned around and pushed against the wall. It wasn't too easy, though, to find a sure footing for them in the alleyway. The last flooding had left some dark, smelly slime on the ground, and it was still thick here where no cleaning crew ever passed. 

But right now, Karl really had other things on his mind. One hand in Leesha's pants, fondling his ass, he had his other on his neck, holding him tight. Karl was almost sorry he hadn't struggled a little more. 

"You gave up fast. I didn't even had to go all puppy-eyed on you..."

"Shut up and fuck me!" Leesha ordered sharply, and Karl really wasn't in the mood to argue. 

Wasting no time complying, he shoved his cock up Leesha's ass in one relentless motion. Even though his friend cried out, he knew it was in lust and pain in at least equal parts. 

"At your command, Major." Karl whispered, holding still for a moment, savouring the feel of Leesha around him, of his partner shuddering, impaled on his cock as he was. The sound of Leesha, whimpering around the knuckles of his hand he was biting on, almost drove Karl insane with the urge to fuck him through the decrepit wall. 

"Oh sweet GOD..." he mumbled, and for the first time in what felt like ages, just let himself go. Slowly, he started moving, slow and deep and deliberate thrusts, building up speed bit by bit. He wasn't hurrying, not at all, but neither was he holding back a single bit of himself. He was just going faster and faster, without thinking, just his body and Leesha's. 

Both of them were now groaning, their passion so intense that nothing else but the two of them existed in their universe. Entwined, they both knew without words that this wasn't a long cuddly love-making, but a raw, hard fuck, and that it was what they both wanted. 

Karl by now was thrusting hard and fast into his friend, holding Leesha by his waist, every single muscle in his body taut and humming like a bowstring. He felt his orgasm approach rapidly, like a wall he was driving into, like a giant wave going to crush him down. When he came, howling at the purple night sky, it was a release that burned inside his soul like a white-hot flame, searing, purifying, leaving nothing but heat and glimmering ashes. 

Somewhere in the aftermath of his peak, Karl realized Leesha had come with him, and that they were now leaning against the wall; both exhausted, panting, happy. Gently, he wrapped his arms around his friend, muzzling his neck. 

"Thank you..." he whispered, "Thank you."

Instead of an answer, Leesha just leaned back on slightly wobbly legs, turning his head so he could at least nominally kiss Karl. Laughing softly at the sweet gesture, Karl helped him to turn around and gather up his pants without getting any muddier than necessary. 

"I missed you, too." Karl added, now truly realizing in just how many ways he had missed a true friend at his side. 

"I kind of noticed..." Stretching, Leesha buckled up his pants, all lean predator again from head to toe. "Man... you must have been damn hungry!"

"Yeah, apparently..." Even though Karl had thought he had taken sufficient care of his physical needs, his own raving hunger had deeply surprised him. "Didn't even know myself." 

Fondly, Leesha took Karl's face between his hands and kissed him long and gently. "Did I ever tell you how much I love you, you pretty stud?"

That comment made Karl blink in surprise. Yes, he loved Leesha as well, but like a friend, like a brother... Apart from the occasional sex, that was of course. But LOVE? Cocking his head, it took Karl a moment to figure out what to say next. He really hoped Leesha meant his words just the way he felt as well, and not in a way that would complicate his life even further. 

"I know you like me, and I am pretty sure you are very fond of me... You love me?" 

-

Leesha grinned at the cute, worried frown that had suddenly appeared on Karl's brow. Karl really was on the edge when it came to the word 'love' these days. "Yeah," Leesha said with a friendly poke to Karl's ribs, "but don't worry, it's not the sappy version." he reassured his friend.

"Good," Karl sighed with heartfelt relief, "I don't think I could stand more complications in my love-life right now. It's a sufficient mess the way it already is."

Poor Karl. Being in love was definitely not something he was enjoying right now. But still Leesha felt that he had been right to tell him. Now he would just have to find a way of cheering his friend up again. "I sure as hell am going to miss this when you get married." he commented with a smirk.

He was quite happy when he was answered with a wide grin that held a decidedly dirty edge. "Well, if I have to share my wife, she won't be able to begrudge me my best friend, will she?"

"Oh, now you do wanna share her?" Leesha's eyes were glinting with amusement. So maybe not all was lost with Karl, Rose and that huge Andragor slave. "I thought it was HWAT?!!"

Karl laughed and shook his head. "Ah well, what the fuck." Karl shrugged, obviously much more relaxed on the subject now. "I don't know. It is so out of question that I can't really think about it. But on the other hand, if I somehow should manage to get myself to live with such an arrangement, she damn better not expect any faithfulness from me."

She better not, Leesha thought, now entirely selfishly. "I'm sure she will be very understanding after I put her through some brainwashing." joked and then possessively grabbed Karl to kiss him again, nipping at his lips. Then he brushed some now dried blood from Karl's brow and eyed the cut beneath it. "You all right there?"

"Yeah, I think so, nothing serious." Karl nodded, looking happy that the subject of Rose and all the mess attached to it were off the table for the time being. "Apart from that, I have enough elixir at home that there won't be any trace left tomorrow." He grinned recklessly. "Let's just hope my mother doesn't wait for me in the hallway again. She'd flay me alive, and no elixir in the empire will help me there." 

Leesha knew exactly what he was talking about. "Aye, mothers are like that." he agreed with a laugh. 

The distant noise from the bar they had left in such a hurry had died down at last. Leesha looked up and down the alley, getting a feel for where their hasty retreat had taken them. "Shall we find more beer?" he asked when he had an idea on where to find it.

Karl considered the offer, weighing his head. "Yeah, but food will be very welcome too. You know some recommendable place in the area?"

"In this area?" Leesha grinned. "Certainly not, but there is a stuffer shack that sells genuine rat-on-a-stick nearby."


	16. Chapter 16

Taking a last chance to check her hair, Lady Ornella wondered if she was doing the right thing. But as often as she turned the matter in her mind, there seemed to be no other way around it. 

Her son had been promised to that van der Meer woman long before she had married Duke Anklam, may he rot in hell. And it hadn’t been the usual deal between two noble families selling off their children to gain political advantage. No, their betrothal had been part of the Concord of P2, the huge settlement that had ended the Second Succession War. Planets had exchanged their owners, houses had been dissolved and others founded, reparations been paid and a million other things. No one had been exactly happy, but everyone had agreed none the less. 

Questioning one part of the deal would question the peace of the Empire. 

So it would have to be that van der Meer woman after all, Ornella resigned. 

She would have preferred to pick an appropriate wife for her son, a beautiful, passionate woman who would worship the ground Karl walked on. A woman he deserved. Not some waifish van der Meer who had killed people like a common assassin. How should that woman ever bear her grandchildren with those tiny hips of hers? 

But once again, there was no way around that woman, it seemed. But as she would have to live with Lady Rose as her daughter-in-law anyway, she could just as well try and make nice with her. Maybe that woman was as smart and professional as everyone said, and they could work out a good working relationship between the two of them. With a little bit of luck, maybe she would even consent to a secondary marriage of Karl to some proper woman. 

But those long-term plans would have to wait, Lady Ornella reminded herself firmly. Today, she was here on a polite visit, trying to get to know her future daughter-in-law on a spontaneous visit. A carefree, personal and easy-going talk between two capable women. Nothing else. 

With grim determination, Lady Ornella forced a polite and slightly shy smile on her face and rang the bell of Lady Rose’s apartment. 

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, Ornella could hear the scratching sound of locks being opened on the other side. So that Lady Rose was afraid even here in the god-forsaken corner of the Imperial Palace where someone had given her a place to live? How pathetic. 

-

“Eric, could you please answer the door?” Rose asked, slightly mumbling around the cookie she was eating. 

Without a word, Eric put down the pastry school book he had been reading in, rose from the chair next to her and walked out of the kitchen to the door. Who could that be, he wondered. It was supposed to be one of Rose’s rare free afternoons, and if that was the Consort again, Eric would send him away on the spot. Rose had been working enough of late, and she really deserved some time to wind down. 

Carefully unlocking the door, he almost expected some courtier or delivery boy at the door. The regal woman in a black Dracon gown was definitely not some servant, that much for sure. She held herself with such upright posture that Eric found himself almost painfully reminded of his late mother. 

Almost automatically, he asked:

“Yes please?”

-

When Lady Rose’s slave opened the door, Ornella was about to ask for his mistress, but the words stuck in her throat. 

For a heartbeat, she wondered if she was dreaming. But the image persisted, and with every passing second, more and more memories came rushing back to her, precious, rare memories of a time when she had been allowed to be happy. Of a time when she still had a family. 

It was impossible, but yet it was undeniable. His dark, wavy hair, so much like his father’s. His wide shoulders, the set of his jaw, everything. His brown eyes were still the same, the eyes of a little boy who was following her through her gardens when she thought she still had all the time in the world to watch him grow up. 

“Oh my god…” she whispered, tears and confusion threatening to drown her voice. “Enrique?”

-

“Mama?”

It was impossible. Incredible. Unbelievable. 

His mother was dead. She had died over 20 years ago after giving birth to Lenny, his brother. He still remembered in horror watching the knacker load her lifeless, naked body onto his cart with all the other corpses. How they had taken her away to bring some more coins to their owners, denying her the proper burial that she deserved. The last degradation possible for a noblewoman of a fallen house.

But the woman in front of him... She had the same proud bearing, the same porcelain beauty. She had aged, that for sure, but her eyes were still the same. Green as glass and full of passion, shining with love and brimming with tears.

“Oh God,” his mother whispered again, her voice breaking with the strain of emotions, now all but screaming with joy. “MY BABY!”

Finally she couldn’t restrain herself any longer and pulled Eric in an embrace that seemed to cut all the air from him. And Eric had to admit it was the most wonderful thing in the world right now. Impossible, yes, but a gift beyond words. 

“Mama!!”

-

In the kitchen, Rose swiftly finished reading the memo she had been working on. Usually, she wouldn’t have cared about allowing Eric to open the door. But this time, something was different. It was far too quiet. 

All her alarms raised, she was out into the hallway without even putting her slippers back on. 

But the image she found at her door stopped her dead in her tracks. Eric was holding a woman in his arms, tightly, and both were sobbing heavily. Had she really just heard the word ‘mama’?

“Eric? What is going on?” 

Both Eric and the woman turned to face her, and Rose had to blink in astonishment as she realized Eric was holding her future mother-in-law in his arms. “Archduchess?!”

“Rose!” Eric exclaimed over the head of the woman he was still holding tightly in his arms, without showing any intention of letting go. Rose seriously wondered if it was her or them going mad. 

“Eric?!“ she asked again, firmer this time, hoping to elicit any kind of useful information from her lover. 

“Rose…” he said once more, still beaming widely, obviously as happy as she had ever seen him. “It’s my mother!”

“What?”

-

This was a miraculous coincidence, but then Lady Ornella had learned to be grateful for whatever little help the gods sent her way. She sure could need every single bit of it. 

How many times had she tried finding a trace of her son? How many times had she sent spies and investigators to Nabucco, trying to learn where her only son had been sold to? Never any of her inquiries had brought up useful information, everyone telling her that she was wasting her time, the troublemaker slave she was looking for probably long dead. 

But she had never given up hope, never stopped dreaming. Even in her darkest hour, she had held on to the hope that one day, she would have her family again. And now, all of a sudden, unexpectedly, miraculously, she was holding her son in her arms again. 

And that very instant, she swore she would never let him go again. 

Wiping the tears off her face, Lady Ornella for once in her life didn’t give a damn about smearing her make-up. Maybe she was looking like a fool, maybe her voice was coarse and shaky, but for once in her life since those terrible Dracon had killed her husband, the next step was perfectly clear to her. 

“How much do you want for this slave?”

-

“WHAT?!” This was all moving way too fast for Rose. Eric’s goddamn mother? Whoever that woman was, there was one thing Rose was as sure of as never before. “He’s not for sale.”

“I’ll pay any price,” the Archduchess insisted, her gruesomely smeared dark makeup doing nothing to dampen the almost frightening determination blazing in her eyes. 

But if she thought Rose would feel impressed by her stare, that woman was sorely mistaken. 

“I said no.”

“Five million credits.”

That was a ridiculous sum. Even an A-class courtesan wouldn’t fetch such a prize. It was enough to buy a small duchy. 

It was totally out of the question. It was an insult. 

“Did you hear my words? I SAID NO.”

„Ten million,“ the Archduchess snapped imperiously, completely misjudging the situation. „Name your price!“ 

-

Having followed the exchange between his mother and Rose wordlessly for far too long, Eric realized he would have to do something. And he would have to do it quickly, or else Rose would completely abandon all pretence of reason and attack his mother, probably killing her with a single kick. 

And what were they talking about anyway? He didn’t want to be sold!

“Mother!” Eric firmly stepped between their heated argument. “I’m NOT leaving Rose!”

For a heartbeat, both women just stared at Eric in silence, both their faces unreadable to him. 

But then his mother’s eyes took on that familiar, dark-green sparkle that told him that she was truly outraged. 

“You can’t possibly want to stay with that… that woman!?”

“MOTHER!!” There had been so much heart-felt venom in his mother’s voice that Eric was genuinely shocked. “How dare you speak of the love of my life!”

“WHAT?” This time, it was his mother’s turn to stare at Eric with a complete lack of comprehension. 

Then she suddenly turned around, her eyes now shooting deadly daggers at Rose. 

“What have you done to my son, you witch?” she hissed. 

What was his mother thinking? Feeling a deep anger roiling up inside of him, he grabbed her by her shoulders and forcefully turned her around to face him. 

“Stop it!” he commanded with an imperious bellow that surprised all of them, Eric most of all. 

But it seemed that this had been exactly what his mother had needed to calm down at least a little. 

For a moment, it seemed as if she was fighting her tears again. But she caught herself again, and after an acquiescing nod, Eric let go of her shoulders. But instead of trying to do the sensible thing and stay, his mother walked to the door, her head held high as the if she was the Empress’ mother herself. 

“This is not over, woman,” she stated dramatically as she reached the still-open door. “I’ll never rest before I have my son back.” 

The handle of the door already in hand, she turned around one last time, this time facing Eric. 

“I’ll never abandon you again, Enrique!” she swore, her rolling ‘r’ now finally betraying her own Andragor heritage. “Never again!”

And with those words she slammed the door shut with a force that made even Eric flinch. 

For a long moment, neither he nor Rose spoke a word, too taken up with the confusing events that had just taken place in their very hallway. 

Eric felt the intense urge to run after his mother, to set things right and sort everything out. But that would also mean he would have to abandon Rose, who was still standing a few steps next to him with a shell-shocked expression that probably mirrored his own. 

But his mother would be back, she had said so herself. And Andragor women never forgot a promise. 

Gently, Eric walked over to Rose and took her in his arms. This was madness. Women! And now he even had two of them in his life...

-

“Eric?” Rose asked softly, almost as if afraid any loud sound would make the Archduchess reappear. “What - What the hell just happened?”

“I’m not sure,” he lover replied with a shaky laugh. “She was dead…”

For a long moment, Rose wondered if they were talking necromancy or ridiculous coincidences. Taking a deep breath, she decided it was her part to act reasonable, as apparently nobody else here cared for a calm and thinking approach. 

“Was that really your mother?” she asked, as politely and insistently as she could manage. “The Archduchess of Del’Morad? “Karl’s MOTHER?”

“WHAT??!!”

As she had feared, that little detail had completely slipped her lover’s notice. 

“That - that was Lady Ornella Dracon, Archduchess of Del’Morad,” she explained calmly. “And my future mother-in-law. If I am not entirely mistaken.” Whatever she had expected Eric to say now, it surely hadn’t incorporated a low, growling comment with so much venom it made her blink. 

“My mother is NOT a Dracon!”

What was Rose to say to that? Had Eric truly overlooked the ruby brooch in the shape of a curled dragon that the Archduchess had been wearing? On the other hand, Lady Ornella’s Andragor heritage had been just about as hard to overlook. So in the end, Rose settled for the pacifying approach. 

“Of course.” 

“Del’Morad?” Eric suddenly asked, as if catching up on what Rose had said earlier. “You mean she…she can’t be the mother of that wretched bastard!”

Wretched bastard? Since when were all people around her talking as if she had stumbled into some kind of opera rehearsal? Why was her life suddenly becoming a soap-opera?

“Well, at least legally she is…” she tried to concentrate on the facts. “If I am not mistaken, she was the third wife of the late Duke of Del’Morad. Karl is her stepson.”

Plain facts seemed to calm down Eric, at least for a moment. He took a long, deep breath, but then broke up again, flustered with renewed anger. 

“Why would she adopt one of THEM?” he asked, his eyes burning with the same overactive sense for the dramatic his mother had been displaying only moments before. “She must have been forced into this…“

“I don’t think Lady Ornella could be forced into anything, after what little I know,” Rose tried to remain calm, but finally lost her temper as well. “And why should I know, anyway? You were hugging her a moment ago!”

“I have not seen her for over 20 years!” her lover exclaimed, but apparently finally coming down to the really important part. “She is… oh god… she is alive!”

“I am happy for you.” If nothing else came out of this, Rose honestly was happy for Eric. This whole thing was a ridiculous mess, but if it made Eric happy, she would bear it. “I don’t understand any of this, but I am happy.”

Rubbing his face in a gesture that Rose had learned meant he was at a complete lack of words, Eric looked at Rose, then at the door his mother had closed so flamboyantly, then back at Rose again. Wordlessly, he hugged her tightly, all the tension seeming to flow out of him. 

Silently, Rose returned his embrace. What else was there to say right now? This whole situation was completely ridiculous. His mother? Seriously? If she told anyone about this, nobody would believe her. 

But maybe the script writers of ‘Even Nobles Cry’ were open for suggestions.


	17. Chapter 17

Leesha tiredly rubbed his face and stared down at the various notes heaped on his desk without really seeing any of them. It had been one of those days so far. The kind of day where problems seemed to appear out of nowhere. Actually, it had been one of those weeks.

As if it wasn’t enough that it was nearly impossible to keep track of his charge, the Consort, his Captains lately seemed to go out of their way to create as much trouble as possible, too.

He looked up when there was a short knock on his door, followed by Ashleigh strolling into his office. She was right at the top of his list of grievances, Leesha thought with a frown. Well, maybe in the second spot after Rose.

“Hi Boss!” she greeted him cheerfully, picked up one of his visitor chairs, swung one admittedly stunning, long leg over the backrest and then settled down.

She looked like she didn’t have a care in the world and Leesha deeply envied her for that.

“What’s up, tiger?” she asked with her usual lack of respect for chain of command, rank or manners.

Leesha frowned at her some more and then looked at a note on top of one of his stacks. “Was there a particular reason why you blew up the shooting range with a plasma grenade?” he asked, impressed by his own calm.

Ashleigh at least had the good grace to smile ruefully. “Oh you know that already?” But gradually her smile was slipping away and her face took on an angry frown of her own. “That damn thing was mocking me!” she exclaimed.

Leesha was well aware of training results and why she would think it would have mocked her. Still he groaned, wondering if a toothache would feel like dealing with Ashleigh’s antics on a daily basis.

“Ashleigh, it’s a shooting range,” he patiently told her, “it can’t ‘mock you’.”

He wasn’t even sure of her grim reply was in jest or serious. “Those holographic dummies can be vicious, you have no idea…”

Leesha critically eyed her. She was of course drinking heavily on a regular basis but that usually didn’t impede her performance in training. She did look a little tired, which was unusual despite her wild lifestyle.

“Have you been smoking cheap dakka again?” he hazarded a wild guess.

“Of course, do you have any idea how expensive that stuff is these days?” she replied earnestly, telling him something he really didn’t want to know. She pensively tapped her nose. “But not before I went on the shooting range, if that is what you ask. That would be irresponsible.”

Leesha rubbed his face, trying to come up with something constructive to say. So she was drinking, partying and doing drugs. Only that normally didn’t interfere with her work. She just was that good.

Out of ideas and patience he growled at her. “Ash, your results are abysmal! And I know from experience you can hit a fly on a wall with a thrown whiskey tumbler.”

Ashleigh smiled, clearly remembering the incident Leesha was referring to which had won them a healthy sum on a bet. 

“Well, let me throw whiskey tumblers in the shooting range I might…” she mused, only to shut herself short as another random thought overwrote the previous one as it often happened with her. “But I really don’t see your point. Compared to Rose my results were great! Have you seen her shoot lately?”

Leesha frowned even more and realized that this was what an aching tooth would feel like. “Yes, I have seen her results. She missed. Twice.” he answered.

Which of course was unheard of. Rose never missed. Not on missions and not in training. Leesha had access to her training logs of the last three years and they were flawless.

“See?!” Ashleigh exclaimed, genuinely worried. Whatever one could say about her manners, she was one of the sweetest, most caring Dracon Leesha had ever met. “That is abysmal for Rose,” she echoed Leesha’s thoughts. “She never misses any shot. What is wrong with the poor thing?”

“She’s in love with a slave and supposed to marry a noble.” Leesha told her tiredly. Ashleigh knew that of course. The gossip about Karl and Rose dating was all over the news in Imperial City. No surprise considering Karl was the only available dashing young bachelor duke. And Ashleigh was one of the very few people who knew about Rose affection for her slave. “And if you pester her about it I will personally shoot you.” Leesha added, already knowing where Ashleigh’s mind would go next.

“Oh my, no need to get all bristly about it.” Ashleigh pouted, taken aback but his harsh words. 

So maybe she hadn’t deserved that. He really was on a short fuse, Leesha realized, slightly chagrined.

“But why is she unhappy then,” Ashleigh mused, with a rather adorable puzzled look on her face, “I mean, two gorgeous hunk of men like her Andragor and that Karl…” She purred like a huge, lazy predator entertaining thoughts about a huge, bloody steak.

“Because the two gorgeous hunks are insanely jealous of each other.” Leesha explained what wasn’t so obvious. “I mean, Ash, seriously… one of them is an Andragor!”

“Yes!” Ashleigh exclaimed.

Of course that idea made her blood run hot again just like it had done when she had first laid eyes on Eric, but then she realized that Andragor blood didn’t just mean an incredibly passionate lover but also a man who would not back down from any perceived challenge and would never give up a woman he had claimed as his own. 

“Oh no!” she whispered in genuine horror and clasped her hand in front of her mouth.

Leesha nodded. “Now you get it.” He confirmed the whole, miserable mess.

“But Karl at least is happy he gets a smart wife and a well-hung pet, isn’t he?” Ashleigh asked hopefully.

If only, Leesha thought. He still had no clue why his friend had reacted so badly to the idea of his wife having a pet. He was Dracon after all and Ashleigh was perfectly right. He should have been delighted at the prospect.

“He should be.” Leesha said with an annoyed shrug. “He’s not. I really don’t know what’s wrong with him…”

Ashleigh sighed deeply, settling her chin on the backrest of her chair. “Oh this is really bad.” She muttered unhappily. “But you have talked to Rose, haven’t you?” she then asked. “I mean, she really trusts you. What did you tell her?”

“Nothing.” Leesha answered truthfully. Of course he should by now have talked to Rose, as her friend as well as her commanding officer. There was only one small problem with that. “I have no idea how to solve this either.”

“No!” Ashleigh’s face showed a peculiar mix of outrage and pouting. “But you can’t have no idea, you’re my smartest cousin ever!” she complained, deeply annoying by the fact that a problem didn’t just go away and that she couldn’t just shoot it.

Leesha sighed, feeling exasperated with her demand he magically resolves all the troubles in the world. 

“I can’t advise her on this! I’m way too biased.” He tried to explain. “Karl is my best friend. I want him to be happy! So should I tell Rose to have her pet put down and to marry Karl?”

“But she loves her pet!” Ashleigh pointed out, as unsatisfied with this solution as Leesha was. Which was precisely why he hadn’t told Rose this.

“Yeah and I love Karl.” He growled. “I have NO CLUE!”

“Oh my god.” Again Leesha watched as the wheels turned in Ashleigh’s head and dreaded the outcome. “We have to ask the Consort!” she came up with the worst possible idea and started to rise.

“Ashleigh! NO!” Leesha half rose as well. “Don’t you dare involve that crazy bastard!”

“But… He’d sure know what to do.” Ashleigh looked so hopeful and clueless Leesha wasn’t sure if he wanted to slap or hug her.

“He would do something horrible, earth shattering and no one will thank you for making this mess even bigger than it already is.” He instead told her. “Just. Don’t. Get. Involved.” He tried to make his order as clear as possible.

Apparently not clear enough.

“Please?” Ashleigh asked again, making big puppy eyes at him.

Leesha didn’t even want to begin to imagine what Prince Amadeus would do. One just didn’t tempt fate like that.

“No.” he reaffirmed his orders. “I swear if you do anything I will have you sedated until Rose has worked this out herself.” He added, hoping the threat would be enough to keep Ashleigh in line at least for a while.

Apparently, this time he had managed to get across how adamant he was about the issue as Ashleigh looked a little like she was pulling in her nose. 

“Shh, calm down boss, I understand. No messing, no talking to anyone.” She sighed deeply and Leesha knew perfectly well that if she didn’t defy his orders she would certainly try to stretch them as far as possible to do something she would consider helpful. “Poor Rose.” 

“Good.” Leesha sighed exhausted, knowing that this was as far as he would get with her. “And no more plasma grenades in the shooting range.”

“Spoilsport.” Ashleigh accused him and got up from her perch. 

“Just get out.” Leesha waved her away like one would try to shoo away an annoying fly. “And send in Wesley. I really need a fuck now.”

“Sure, Sir.” Ashleigh nodded, her trademark grin already returning as it was virtually impossible to depress her for long. In the doorway she stopped, thoughtfully looking back at Leesha, who knew exactly what she was thinking. “By the way, could I…” 

“No, your can’t join us!” Leesha hissed at her.

“Whoa.” Ashleigh shrugged. “Had to ask, boss, no hard feelings.”

Then she was gone and Leesha seriously considered collapsing on his desk. When Wesley came in and quietly closed and locked the door behind him, he quickly changed that plan, got up and walked over to the immaculately beautiful courtesan with the gentle, supportive smile.

He dropped his head against Wesley’s chest, who immediately enclosed him in a loose embrace.

“How about we buy a ranch on Tosca and never look back here…?” Leesha muttered, deeply inhaling the familiar, calming scent of sandalwood which was Wesley’s favourite perfume. 

“I am sure that would be very pastoral, Master.” Wesley’s hands stroked his back, skilfully loosening up tense muscles. “But do you really think your mother would leave us be? Or the emperor?”

Wesley was right, of course. Leesha groaned. 

“Shhh…” Wesley gently disentangled himself from Leesha and then gracefully sank to his knees in front of him, his nimble fingers already busy with the clasps of his armour. “Here, let me kiss it all better…”


	18. Chapter 18

It never snowed in Imperial City. Neither did the capital ever experience freezing temperatures. Seasons were only noticeable in the change of the drizzle-to-rain ratio. 

Consequentially, it was entirely beyond Lady Ornella why everyone insisted calling the glass extension of their rented mansion ‘the wintergarden’, then. 

Not that it wasn’t a beautiful place. Looking out onto the small but immaculately groomed garden of their residence for the time they spent in the capital, it was one of the few rooms that didn’t need artificial illumination all day round. An ornate construction of cast-iron and glass, it shut out the perpetual drizzle and allowed some light into the rear of the building. Also, it hosted a variety of beautiful flowering plants from all over the Empire that wouldn’t survive the near-constant precipitation outside. 

So when Karl had suggested they’d take their tea in the ‘wintergarden’ today, Lady Ornella hadn’t protested. She had other problems on her mind. Real problems. 

Like her beloved son insisting on marrying a woman who was in love with a slave who was her beloved son, too. 

The inescapable deadlock of the situation felt like a migraine to her. It made her sick, woozy, nervous and feeling close to bursting in tears. But nothing of that would help solve the problem, nothing would help her sons to gain the happiness they deserved. If only she had any idea on how to unravel this mess!

But however she turned the matter in her mind, it only served up new horrific scenarios, unsettling Lady Ornella further. Karl killing Eric for insolence. Eric attacking Karl and being hanged for it. Rose refusing to marry Karl and plunging the Empire into another war. 

There seemed to be no way out that wouldn’t leave at least one person dead and all others heartbroken. The mere thought of standing by while her sons tried to get each other killed was almost to much to bear. 

In the end, tea with Karl seemed like a welcome distraction. At least, it would distract her from running in circles in her mind. 

Down in the wintergarden, the servants had already prepared a table, while Karl was sitting nearby, intently studying an e-ink scroll. It hardly took Lady Ornella a glance to identify the Concord of P2 by the abundance of colourfully tasselled seals that dangled at its bottom. 

For a heartbeat, Ornella hesitated. Why was he reading this particular paper right now? Was he checking if that van der Meer woman had any chance to wriggle out of there marriage? Did he already know more than Ornella suspected?

In the end, it was her curiosity that got the upper hand of her. 

“Are you ready for tea, Karl, or shall I return later?”

Her son looked up, an entirely unbefitting boyish smile on his face. If he weren’t wearing that dreaded Dracon uniform, one might actually take him for a member of a proper House, Lady Ornella realized with a certain pride. 

“No I’m ready, this will take longer anyway.” Setting down the scroll on a coffee table next to him, he came over and politely offered his mother a seat at the table. “Did you know that House van der Meer received substantial insights into the pet breeding research of the Serin Dracon in return for them giving up all claims of land on Serin? I wonder what they have been doing with that data…”

“I am wondering more what in all the Empire they were thinking that they had any right to lands on Serin.” Sitting down on the chair her son was holding for her, she fought hard not to scoff at the mention of that miserable minor House, and lost. “Upstarts.”

“Well they were vassals of House Dracon and they didn’t have any land elsewhere so they actually did have land on Serin back then,” Karl explained as if Ornella hadn’t said anything out of turn. “Apparently Duke Vladimir wanted them off his soil at all costs.”

“Can’t blame him for that.” 

Carefully, Lady Ornella started pouring the tea, first for her son, then for herself. The various treats the servants had put on the table looked appropriately immaculate, but she really didn’t feel like eating anything. So she just took a miniature cake and put it on her plate, trying to appear at least interested in eating. Finally, when Karl had settled down on the chair opposing her, she pointed at the scroll.

“I assume this is about your marriage? Are there any problems?”

“Not that I can see, it’s pretty straight forward, compared to the rest of it.” Picking up a dainty sandwich, he studied it for a second before he put it back on its tray. Instead, he took a whole platter of miniature cakes onto his lap and started to pop them into his mouth one by one, leaning back in his chair most comfortably. “Basically, I could marry her immediately.”

Blinking in surprise both at her son’s confounding manners and his utterly inappropriate eagerness to marry that woman, it took Ornella a moment to think of a reply that would not show how she really felt about both matters. 

“And you think that would be wise?”

“I don’t know. Do you?”

Ornella took the time to think about it in all honesty. Her son valued her insights, and she would do herself a bad service if she spoiled that by acting selfishly. 

“Do you still WANT to marry her?”

“Of course,” Karl replied, sounding as if he really didn’t know what that woman was doing behind his back. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Then I think there is nothing to gain by waiting for the inevitable to happen,” she replied evenly as if she had not heard Karl’s question. “I think we should take matters into our hands and start the preparations immediately.”

“Mother? You do realize that you are evading my questions, yes?”

Well, Ornella thought, at least he is listening intently. But that still doesn’t mean I’m going to talk ill about your future wife in front of you. 

“Yes,” she replied evenly. “You seem to like those cakes. Shall I set up a regular delivery of them for Del’Morad?”

“Mother…” Karl said with a snort that sounded almost amused. 

So he wouldn’t back down on this one, today, Ornella realized with an audible sigh. At least she would try to word things politely. 

“Nothing politically. I just don’t think there is anything polite I could say about your fiancée. So I don’t.”

Now a deep frown darkened her son’s features. 

“You haven’t even met her, you should at least withhold judgement until then.”

“I have met her.”

“Really?” he asked, setting down the cakelet he was about to put in his mouth. “When?”

“Yes. Yesterday. I tried to get to know my future daughter-in-law. But the visit didn’t do anything to improve my opinion of her.”

“Okay, so you ambushed her at home and she… did what?“

Did Karl even realize what he was doing to her? She was trying to remain polite, while all inside her was trying to scream out the ugly truth, that this woman was betraying her son even before they were married! Not that Rose could have had any chance of resisting Enrique’s considerable charm, just like Ornella had felt helpless in the passionate gaze of his father. But that was no excuse for what that woman was doing to Carlos!

“Let’s suffice to say that she was as headstrong, unrefined, unreasonable and childish as I had feared.“

“Right…” Karl quipped, sounding utterly unamused. “You’ll have to forgive me if I say that sounds rather headstrong, unreasonable and childish of you.”

Ornella couldn’t believe her ears. Had her son really just accused her of acting out of turn, after all she was doing for him?! How could he dare to mistreat her like that, and all for a woman who wouldn’t do anything but break his heart!! 

Ornella felt the overwhelming urge to hurl her tea at Carlos’ face, but caught herself in the very last moment. Her nerves were lying bare, but she wouldn’t loose her temper again. Not ever again. So when she set down her cup, it was only with a tiny, barely audible tremble. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. When have I ever been childish?”

-

Karl wasn’t sure what to make of his mother’s strange behaviour. She normally was the most composed woman he knew. 

When he had returned home from Kalidor to a world in turmoil with everyone accusing the duchess of having murdered her husband and quite a few voices pointing out how much he would profit from his death as well she had been calm as a rock. She had lived through that chaos as stoically as Del’Morad’s mountains weathered any ice storm. 

There had never even been a chink in her armour but now he had seen here genuinely agitated twice in less than a week.

It made him wonder what exactly had happened during her un-announced visit with Rose. He just couldn’t believe Rose would have treated her with even the slightest lack of politeness. Not just because she was van der Meer but just because she was Rose and on the two dates they had shared she had been the most charming, sweet, bright girl he had ever met.

Not that he had had the chance to meet many girls. When he was honest he had to admit she actually was the first girl he was dating. There simply had never been time or reason to date.

She was still glaring at him with that murderous glint in her green eyes.

“Hmpf… okay,” he amended, “cut the childish.”

But she was acting headstrong and unreasonable, he thought and popped another of the tiny cakes into his mouth. They really were delicious.

His mind turned the question over and over in his head. Why did she dislike Rose so much. He couldn’t help but wonder if she had somehow learned about what Leesha had told him. That she was - it took him a conscious effort to even think it - in love with another man.

At least it wasn’t a threat he needed to take too seriously. After much prodding Leesha had revealed that it was her pet she was with. In retrospect Karl wondered why Leesha hadn’t said so to start with. After all she probably wasn’t really in love with a mere pet. It would be some cute little fucktoy she was fond of since she had probably had him for quite a while. Like a ragged old teddy bear. 

Once they were married and she realized what it was like to have a real man at her side she would soon enough grow out of her old play thing. Karl wouldn’t have to do anything about it. Just be patient and generous.

It would probably be a good idea to meet her boy and make sure he didn’t feel threatened by the marriage. The more relaxed he was the less Rose would worry and the easier she would forget about him.

“So.” His mother interrupted his hopeful musings. “You will be marrying her on Del’Morad, yes?”

He had spent quite some time considering these matters while he had studied the treaty. It didn’t say that his wife would be required to move to Del’Morad with him and Leesha had already pointed out how unlikely it was that the Consort would let his Captain go.

“Probably not, I doubt she can skip her duties for any length of time.” He said. “It would be easier if we get married here.”

And much nicer. Del’Morad wasn’t exactly known for its cheerful populace. Moradi took pride in working hard and accomplishing perfection in their chosen craft. Partying was very low on their priority list.

His mother obviously didn’t approve. This time she kept her objections to herself, however. “Well, at least she won’t get under our feet at home, then.” She commented, picking up her tea cup again with delicate elegance. 

Of course she would see that as a positive thing. Karl was already wondering how to arrange for them to see each other as often as possible. Maybe he would be able to negotiate a discount rate with the Psions’ Guild so Rose would be able to come home to Del’Morad after her shifts. Certainly not a cheap solution, but it was a price he was willing to pay to give her the feeling that he valued her independence as much as her presence. Even if his mother despised her. There was simply no denying it - he really was hopelessly in love with her.

“And on the bright side, if you marry on P2, you won’t need as long for the guests to confirm their invitation. So we could set the date for, say, in two months?” his mother suggested.

“Two months sounds good.” Karl said. It actually sounded a million years too long. He would have married her tomorrow. But that wasn’t an option. 

He sighed dreamily, allowing his fantasy to conjure Rose image before his mind’s eye. “I’m sure she’ll be a beautiful bride, with that hair and eyes she’ll look wonderful in white.” He mused.

His mother looked like she was about to spit fire or her tea back into the cup. “You will NOT marry that woman out of house colours!” she hissed.

Karl blinked at her in surprise but then he had to smile. This at least was a reaction he should have expected. Protocol was everything to his mother. There was little chance that she would relent, still he decided that one more try couldn’t hurt. 

“Oh come on…” he begged.

“Black is the only option.” His mother insisted with regal bearing. “You’re a Duke, Carlos, not some unlanded knight with no pedigree.” She sighed dramatically. “Green, for gods’s sake, if the Consort insists on his crazy ways.” Then a cruel smile crossed her lips. “I personally think she should be wearing grey, as it befits the gaggle of accountants that is her House.”

Karl had no idea why she had such a deep hatred for House can der Meer. She really had no reason that he knew of. It had to be a reason in her past, something from before she married his father. Something she should really get over, he thought.

“Mother, please… will you stop it.” He told her, slightly exasperated. “I will marry her no matter what you or anyone else thinks about it. You will have to live with that and stop constantly insulting her. I love that girl!”

There, he had said it.

“And she’ll break your heart!”

So that was the crux of the matter. It was hard to believe but it actually sounded like his mother was jealous that there now was another woman in his life. At least that was a problem Karl could understand.

But before he could say something conciliatory his mother already got her silent fuming under control.

“I apologize. That was out of turn.” She said with an inclination of her head that could only be called noble. 

“She won’t break my heart.” Karl explained gently. “She is a kind, sweet, intelligent young woman and I’m sure we will be happy together.”

His mother stared at him with a stony expression that silent spoke volumes about the doom she thought he was inviting into his life.

Karl decided to simply ignore her gloomy thoughts. “Getting married on P2 is perfect anyway,” tried to distract her as well, “that way Leesha can attend too.”

That got the result he had hoped for. His mother pinched the ridge of her nose with a pained expression. “I am so looking forward.” 

Karl answered with an insolent smirk. “I’m so sorry that you seem to like none of my friends, mother.”


	19. Chapter 19

Late afternoon usually was quite a busy time at the Imperial Palace, but in the remote living quarters atop one of the spokes where Rose had her apartment it didn’t show. A lone palace servant was calmly pushing a trolley laden with fresh linens along, but that was the only person Karl met on his way.

He had prepared well for this meeting with Rose’s pet. After all, he wanted it to go smoothly. He had called Leesha earlier to make sure she wouldn’t be home and had learned that she was accompanying the Consort to some sort of sports event.

He had also spent quite some time telling himself that he would be patient and reassuring and would not bark at the slave boy for ever having touched his Rose. He would be mature about this. Leesha would be proud of him.

In front of Rose’s door, he took a moment to draw a calming breath and straighten his jacket. Then he rang.

It took a while until the door was opened, but then Karl found himself looking at the broad expanse of the tall slave who had also answered the door when he had picked up Rose for their first date. For a simple house slave, he really was a huge guy and his simple tunic and pants did nothing to hide the massive muscles under his skin.

He was also quite lacking in manners, Karl noted as he was stared at for quite a while until the slave finally asked: “Yes?” quite coldly and without the proper deference he should have shown a noble and the man who would soon be marrying his mistress to boot.

Karl wondered if this oaf had also welcomed his mother and if maybe that was the reason she now considered Rose unsuitable for Karl.

He made a mental note to get rid of the slave as soon as he and Rose were married and supply her with one more fitting her status. But now he was here on more important business.

“I’d like to speak to Lady Rose’s pet.” He stated calmly and precisely so the slave would understand him.

Various emotions flitted over the slave’s face and Karl began to wonder if he had been understood after all when the slave finally answered.

“You are talking to him.”

There was so much hostility and disgust in his voice that for a moment Karl was stuck on that before he realized what the slave had actually said and then he suddenly felt his hand grip his blaster.

No.

Simply no.

His Rose was not sharing her bed with this… this brute. This wasn’t even a pet. There was nothing cute or cuddly about him. He looked like he had been dragged from a mine with his hard muscles and scarred face and brutal glint in his eyes.

The mere notion that this bastard was even anywhere near his Rose made Karl want to kill him. There was no way in hell he was going to accept this. This had to be some sort of mistake.

His stunning, smart, sweet Rose could never love someone like that!

With iron self control, Karl managed to force down the urge to simply shoot the brute thing and be done with it. Leesha was right, of course. Rose wouldn’t understand. For whatever reason, she maybe was infatuated with this… man.

He shuddered inwardly at the thought of her, buried under this mountain of flesh. She would soon find out what it was like to be with a man who cherished and treasured her like she should be and then he would make sure this bastard would be punished for everything he had surely done to Rose.

“Well, I think then I am here to talk to you.” He said, proud that he voice didn’t show any of his inner turmoil.

The slave had the audacity to cross his arms and demonstratively look down at him. He should have gone to his knees as befitted a slave talking to a god damned duke but he showed no sign or manners whatsoever.

“So?” he asked coldly, apparently not even planning to ask Karl inside. 

Seething inside, Karl still somehow managed to keep his clam. “I don’t think we should talk about these subjects in the hallway.”

The slave finally made room for him to step inside and closed the door behind him. No quick death for this slave, Karl vowed silently. 

The patience and composure he had planned on was rapidly evaporating.

“So it is you having an affair with my wife.” Not what he had planned to say, but the best he could come up with face with this brute.

“We are not having an ‘affair’!” the slave hissed and Karl almost expected him to add something ‘I am fucking her senseless’, but instead the brute found something even more infuriating to say: “And she is NOT your wife.”

“You arrogant, ungrateful piece of shit!” Karl finally lost his temper. “I come here offering you an armistice and this is what I get?!”

„You? Offering an armistice?“ The slave laughed derisively. “Now isn’t that rich!”

How dare he!

“You will learn your place, boy!” he growled. “You will be lucky to only be sold as soon as we are married.”

Now the slave actually smirked. “She will never sell me, Dracon.”

Never before had his House name been so clearly meant as an insult. It was insufferable. In silent rage Karl pulled his blaster. He could believe his ears when he heard the slave’s next words.

“Yeah, that would be just what I expect from honourless scum like you.”

He was trembling with rage as he aimed at the slave’s head but he was stared down fearlessly. 

“You can shoot me, but I will die knowing that Rose heart will always be mine and you have no way of ever winning her.” 

-

“If you weren’t such a coward you would fight me for her in an honourable duel!” 

The words were out of Eric’s mouth before he even realized what he was going to say, but once they were said he knew it was what he meant. It was what he wanted. It was the only way to settle this, even if it made no sense and was impossible.

The wretched Dracon reacted like he would have expected him to. He scoffed at the notion. “But you’re just a fucking slave!” His casual contempt cut even deeper than his pervious arrogant possessiveness of Rose and stripped away the last of Eric’s reason.

“I am Enrique Andragor, and I challenge you to a duel to the death!” he growled with all the menace and hatred that he had dammed up over years and years of service to the nobles who had obliterated his House.

He fully expected the other man to shoot him now and end it.

Instead, the Dracon stared at him silently, his face twitching only once. Then he put his blaster back in his holster.

“You silly fool.” The Dracon hissed, his voice brimming with as much hatred and menace as Eric’s. “Tomorrow morning at dawn, then, at the square in front of the tea-pavilion in the garden hexant.” For a moment, they seized up each other. “Bring your sword, slave.” The Dracon then added and turned to leave. 

“I will be there.” Eric answered coldly.

Moments later the door closed behind the noble and all tension deserted Eric as he slowly sank to his knees.

Madness. This was complete madness. He would die tomorrow at the hands of that noble. There was no chance in hell that he would be able to win against a trained fighter like a Dracon Duke. And even should he win by some ridiculous accident his life would still be forfeit for attacking a noble - duel or not.

He braced his hands against the floor, feeling light headed.

Rose would never forgive him.

His mother would never forgive him.

Leonardo would never forgive him.

But none of that mattered. He would die with honour, die like a man should die, not like a cowering dog.

He pushed himself up and then unsteadily headed towards Rose’s armoury. Surely she would have some sword still packed away in her crates which she wouldn’t miss until it was too late.


	20. Chapter 20

Early shift was the one Rose had the most problems with. 

She really didn’t mind working until late at night, or at any other odd hour. But getting up in the middle of the night, when even the Imperial Palace was quiet, felt like a total waste of perfectly good sleep to her. 

At least, Eric was looking just as worn as she felt, Rose mused while she looked across the table at her lover. 

While she had been under the shower, Eric had prepared her breakfast. A strong tea, a glass of grapefruit juice, some diced fruit, a bowl of porridge and a single dark chocolate truffle as a treat for the early hour. 

Maybe a properly trained household slave would have prepared all of it just as well, but it wouldn’t have been with as much love. Just looking at her breakfast made her smile, and reminded her what a priceless gift she had in Eric. 

Swiftly, she worked her way through the porridge and started working on her fruits, one by one, even though she really didn’t feel hungry at this hour. The truffle, she could have eaten any time, but she kept that one last as a reward for finishing all other food on her tray. 

Slowly, her sluggish mind came up to working speed, and somehow she realized that Eric looked worse than he should, even considering the ungodly hour. 

“Darling, are you all right? You look tired.” Smiling, she added: ”You should go back to bed.”

Her lover put on a brave smile and nodded. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

The whole thing with his mother was taking a strain on him, Rose was well aware of that. And it was only natural. After all, he had believed his mother was dead, and now suddenly she reappeared, as the stepmother of the man Rose was going to marry. 

The way Lady Ornella had stormed out on them had left a lot of questions unanswered. And Rose was still angry with herself that she hadn’t managed to talk with Eric about it more than the few words they had exchanged. But the last three days had been insanely busy, and Rose was convinced it wouldn’t help one bit to help sort Eric’s feelings when she was confused and nervous herself after a long day in the Consort’s presence. But that would change today. 

“I’ll have a little time this evening and tomorrow,” she started explaining. “I swapped shifts with Li Ma. We’ll talk about your mother then and see how we can sort this out.” 

“I’m sure we can somehow sort it out.”

Eric sounded genuinely hopeful, calm and unexpectedly considerate. Rose felt her heart bounce in her chest. He was a wonderful man.  
“I love you.” 

Standing up, Eric pulled her into an enveloping embrace, holding her tightly. 

“I love you, too,” he said, only reluctantly letting her go. “Have a good day at work.”

“Thank you, love.” 

With well trained, almost automatic motions, Rose put on the gloves that came with her glossy green armour. She checked the fit of her armour and if she had secured all the clasps. Then, as always, was taking her blaster from the counter right next to the bread basket, tacking it to the hip of her armour. Finally, she picked up her helmet that had been resting next to her on the kitchen bench and turned her attention back to Eric. 

Blowing her lover a kiss, she realized how much she was looking forward to coming home after work. 

“See you this afternoon, love!” 

\---

Deeply alarmed, Lady Ornella paced the hallways of her mansion. 

Carlos had left the house unexpectedly early, in the black of the night. 

Normally, she wouldn’t have cared at all, but the hour was making her nervous beyond words. It was the hour before dawn, and when men of her House left without a word at that particular time, there was only one place they would go – to a duel. 

But that custom had all but died out when House Andragor and House Habichtswald went extinct. Those brawls the nobles today called duels were a pale remainder of the real thing. 

Was Carlos really going to a duel? What a silly idea. Probably it was some kind of emergency meeting somewhere. Or he was going to meet some of this friends from way back when he was at Kalidor. 

But the nagging thought hadn’t allowed Lady Ornella go back to sleep. Still in her velvet dressing gown, she had sneaked into her son’s office. Carlos had left all his papers and his schedule on his desk. There was no appointment for today. 

So she had gone and asked the servants if there had been any call for her son. If he had said anything about where he was going. If they had any idea where he was. 

But the servants didn’t have any idea. 

Only the chauffeur remembered that he had seen Carlos picking up his hoverbike, wearing his combat gear and a sword on his back. 

It was impossible. A duel? Carlos? 

Why in all the Empire would he take such a risk? He wasn’t a fool. 

And yet there was one reason why men acted like fools since the beginning of time – women. And that particular woman came with another man attached, a special man. Her son, and a true-blooded Andragor to boot. 

Suddenly, cold dread ran through Lady Ornella’s heart. 

How could she have been so blind? It was all her fault. 

Of course Enrique wouldn’t allow another man to touch his beloved Rose! And he wouldn’t sit by idly when Carlos tried to marry her – no, he was an Andragor, he would do the only thing a man of his blood would be able to. He would challenge him to a duel for the heart of the woman they both loved, a duel to the death, at dawn. 

And the way Lady Ornella had raised Carlos, with his integrity and passion and honour that set him so valiantly apart from all other Dracon, he wouldn’t do anything else but accept the challenge, even though Enrique was but a slave to him. 

Wringing her hands, she only barely managed to suppress a tormented wail. 

Karl, with all his training and equipment could easily kill any slave as soon as they crossed their blades. But this was no ordinary slave he was facing, this was her flesh and blood, a true Andragor, and they had mastered the art of dueling long before House Dracon had even left their bug-infested home planet. Eric might have a realistic chance of killing Karl – but even if he won the duel, he’d be threaded through the wheel afterwards for daring to attack a noble. 

Her sons were about to kill each other, and there was nothing she could do about it! How ever this would end, she would lose at least one more son today. It wasn’t her place to interfere. A woman’s place was at home, and all she could do was wait until someone brought her the bitter news that her life was shattered again. 

Sobbing silently, Lady Ornella felt her knees give way under her, and she collapsed at the foot of a staircase, clinging to the handrail, the glossy velvet of her dressing gown pooling around her feet like black blood. 

Was this really the end? 

It couldn’t be. 

Not after all she had done for Carlos, not after all she had done herself to survive. Not now after she had found her lost son after so many years. Not after she had promised Enrique she would never again abandon him. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be right for an Andragor woman to interfere. Maybe it wasn’t her place. But manners be damned, this was about her sons! Lady Ornella did not know how she would keep them from tearing each other apart, but she wouldn’t wait helplessly until it was too late. 

\-- Psions’ Guild? -- she thought firmly as she had learned to do. She despised the psions with all their sneaky ways and cut-throat prices, but they were useful, no doubt about that. 

\-- PSIONS’ GUILD?! -- she repeated with all the fury she felt in her heart as no one answered her call immediately. This time, the reply came promptly. 

\-- Ma’am. What can we do for you? --

\-- Duke Carlos. Where is he? --

\-- Ma’am, I am sorry, but I cannot divulge sensitive information --

\-- TELL ME WHERE MY SON IS YOU GODDAMN FOOL OR I WILL FLAY YOU ALIVE! --

Lady Ornella could almost feel the poor psion recoil from her fury. One thing she had learned, her passions might be a hindrance sometimes, but when dealing with sensitive psions, her passions were more effective than any whip. And far more painful. 

\-- Imperial Palace. -- the psion replied, his mental touch so cautious it sounded as if he was whispering, unconsciously sending her the image of him raising his hands to block another onslaught of her searing emotions. -- Garden Hexant. --

Not even bothering to send a ‘thank you’, Lady Ornella forced herself back onto her feet. She had to get to the Imperial Palace. 

Now. 

\---

Only in the very last moment, Lenny realized that the huge double winged door of the throne room was closed. Skidding across the shiny marble floor, he almost bowled into the two massive Ruby Guards that blocked the entrance, one of them already raising a hand to grab Lenny by the neck of his tunic, if need be. 

By all saints, did everything have to go wrong today? 

It had been in the earliest hour of morning, when Lenny had been busy preparing breakfast for the priests of the chapel. Completely out of the blue, his brother Eric had appeared, even more serious and sombre than usual. He had given him a hug, told him that he loved him and then left. It had taken Lenny quite a while to realize that the long bundle Eric had been carrying on his back could only have been a sword. 

Instantly, all his alarms had been raised. This weird visit smacked way too much like a farewell, and the hour of the day, just before dawn, didn’t bode too well, either. 

Piecing together what little Lenny knew about Eric, Lady Rose and the duke she was supposed to marry only left him one conclusion – Eric was about to do something monumentally stupid. Probably getting himself killed, and maybe even that Duke with him. 

Lenny remembered only too well that there was no stopping his brother once he had made up his mind. At least, not for anyone but maybe that tiny woman Eric was so in love with. After all, she had turned the aggressive, good-for-nothing rebel into a reasonably decent person. Lady Rose would know what to do to stop this madness. 

Only Lady Rose was on duty, currently, and inside the throne room.

“I must talk to Lady Rose!” he exclaimed, still out of breath, hoping the two guards would see the emergency of his mission.

For a long moment, the two men didn’t even react, their expressions hidden inside the full helmets of their glossy red armour. 

“Who?”

“Lady Rose!” Lenny insisted, bobbing on his feet, thinking fast. “Captain Rose! Of the Malachite Guard! She is in there! Let me through!”

“No.” A little more politely, the one to Lenny’s right added: “The emperor is in session. With the consort. And the consort’s guards.”

“But you don’t understand! This is a matter of life and death!!”

The guards only looked at each other, and Lenny could have sworn the left one was chuckling. 

“Isn’t it always?”

For a heartbeat, Lenny was speechless. How could they make fun of him? He was trying to save lives here! As if an Aroona priest would ever lie to them. Especially not about something as important as this! Not that he was a priest, yet, but still it didn’t make this any less serious. 

So Lenny took a deep breath and braced himself. Maybe he was about to overstep himself tremendously, but then again, there was little he could lose. 

“I am of Temple Aroona. I demand you get Lady Rose out here!” he bellowed imperiously, shocking himself with the sheer volume of his voice. “RIGHT NOW!!!”

Suddenly, the large hallway in front of the throne room seemed very quiet. Everyone, guards and courtiers and passing nobles all seemed to be staring at him. Had he really just ordered two Ruby Guards around? As a slave? Lenny felt like cringing and running away.

But then, the guard to the right gave a tiny nod and raised his wrist to his mouth. 

“Lady Rose? There is a tiny Aroona slave here at the main door who needs to see you right now. Would you mind sneaking out here before he makes a scene?”


	21. Chapter 21

Early morning mist was covering the ground in a thin, creeping blanket. The sky was still dark, but the palace spent plenty of light. Tucked away in a remote corner of the garden hexant, the tea pavillion overlooked a little gravelled square at the border of the Phoenix Knight lake. It was a good choice for a duel that neither of the two rivals wanted observed. 

Eric was pacing back and forth on the small, gravelled area in front of the pavilion. It had been a terrible night. He had lain next to Rose, wide awake, listening to her regular breathing. She had been so very tired when she came home she hadn’t picked up on his nervousness.

When he had sent her off to work again, she had been still sleepy and sweet and trusting and for once, Eric had managed to lie to her without her noticing. Some small part of him had almost hoped she would notice, but when she had left the apartment only grim determination had remained in his heart.

There had still been a little time so he had grabbed the sword he had chosen earlier and made his way to the Aroona chapel, hoping that his brother would already be awake.

He had found Leonardo busy preparing breakfast for the priests. To see how he had grown up and was so good at caring for himself and others had lightened Eric’s heart. Leo didn’t need him any more. He would be fine.

So he had wrapped his little brother in a bear hug, told him he loved him and then quickly left before Leo could question him.

A first hint of red began to colour the sky and for the first time, Eric asked himself what he would do if the Dracon didn’t show up.

But the thought was cut short immediately as boots crunched on the path leading up to the pavilion and the noble came into view. A tall, lean figure, all in black, with a determined scowl on his features that probably matched Eric’s. 

“So you really do have a death wish.” the Dracon snarled full of contempt.

On his back, he carried a long sword just as lean and deadly as he looked himself. And Eric was very sure the other man knew how to use it. 

Eric snarled right back at him. Then he went over to the pavilion where he had stashed the sword. It was a heavy weapon. He knew he wouldn’t be able to match the noble in skill, so he would have to try to take advantage of his superior strength and sheer bulk. He took off his simple slave tunic and wearing nothing but his pants and slave bracers, he faced the noble.

The Dracon unsheathed his sword and discarded the scabbard. With practised ease, he swung the weapon a few times to loosen up his wrist. 

Eric felt bile rise in his throat. Of course the Dracon was planning to slay him like a dog after all. “So you are going to fight me with shields and armour?” he asked, feeling deeply disgusted by the Noble's cowardice.

He was honestly surprised when the other man scowled at him for a moment, but then carefully placed his blade onto the stones marking the border of the lawn to take of first his armoured jacket, then unclip the shield generator from his belt. So the Dracon wasn’t entirely without honour.

The noble picked his sword back up and they faced each other again. 

“Better?”

Of course they were still far from equal, but Eric was willing to accept his as a true duel now.

“Yes.” He said, slowly loosening his neck and giving his own sword a few experimental swings.

“Any last words?” the Dracon sneered.

There was only one possible answer to that taunt.

“En garde.”

Eric brought his sword up into the position drilled into him in countless lessons when he had still been a boy. It was a decidedly strange feeling as he suddenly heard his tutor count off figures and moves in his memory. A lifetime ago and still, in his mind it felt like he had never stopped practising.

His body, of course, lacked training and he was slow to parry when the Dracon brought on a first, testing attack. But his answer was full of brute strength and gave him the satisfaction of seeing the other man scramble to keep his footing under the onslaught. Before he could follow up, though, the noble had already ducked out of the way.

The duke was fast and well trained and knew how to put those advantages to good use, skilfully evading Eric's blows. Eric was hard pressed to block his attacks in time.

-

Running down the gravelled path as fast as her shoes and her gown allowed, Lady Ornella barely managed not to scream out loud. As so often, it was a gray morning in Imperial City, and the palace’s garden hexant was still shrouded in mist, suffused with the purple glow of the palace itself. Moisture was dripping from the trees, and the air was heavy and quiet. That was, quiet except the terrible sound of steel clashing on steel. 

Coming around the last bend before the pavilion, she realized that she was to late after all. Her sons were already fighting, bare-chested, sparks flying from their blades. 

“Carlos! Enrique! NO!”

But her anguished yell didn’t even slow them down. There was nothing she could do, nothing she could say. 

Still both men circled each other, breathing heavily, scanning for weaknesses, each one waiting for the other to make that one final mistake. Again, their swords clashed against each other, a swift exchange of attacks and blocks, parries, ripostes. Already, the light gravel was bearing dark marks where one of them had lost his footing, clearly showing both her sons were fighting without holding back. 

Somewhere in the distance, the crunch of gravel gave away other people walking through the park, but Lady Ornella couldn’t have cared less. 

Even despite everything, it was obvious that Carlos was gaining the upper hand. He was playing with Enrique, holding him out, waiting until he would inevitable run out of breath to finish him like an animal. Ornella had seen enough duels and enough bullfights to know the tactics of both. 

Again, Carlos pressed forward, almost forcing Eric to fall back into the shallow water of the lake. He was just about to raise he sword for a final blow as Lady Ornella couldn’t hold still any longer. 

“NO! Carlos!” she yelled, “He is your brother!!”

This time, Carlos cast her a confused glance. But that distraction had been all Enrique was waiting for. With all the determination despair gave him, he lurched forward. It was only due to Carlos’ extensive training that he wasn’t skewered outright. Instead, he stepped sideways, Enrique’s sword only grazing his side, cutting open the black undershirt he was wearing, revealing a long, bloody gash. 

What had she done? Stifling an agonized wail by biting her knuckles, Lady Ornella blanched at the thought that her interjection had almost killed her son. Was there no way she could end this? Was there nothing she could do that wouldn’t lead to more bloodshed?

“What the hell??” a female voice suddenly exclaimed next to her. 

Of course that woman would have the guts to appear here, Lady Ornella thought. And it suited her right, should she watch how Enrique got himself killed for her. At least, she had had the sense to bring an Aroona priest with her. So maybe not all would be lost. 

In front of the pavilion, the fight between Enrique and Carlos was back on in full force. Now both of them fully concentrated and furious, they exchanged blow after blow, working their way up from the waterfront almost across the whole square under the first, low-hanging branches of the tree that shaded the pavilion. 

“Oh Rose!” Lady Ornella finally exclaimed, torn between accusation and commiseration. “They are going to kill each other and there is nothing we can DO!”

\---

“Bullshit,” Rose voiced her first thoughts. 

What kind of crappy attitude was that? Nothing she could do? That weird Archduchess should just watch her. 

With calm precision, Rose took the heavy blaster out of its holster on her hip, flipping off the safety and starting an overcharge cycle without looking. Usually, a single blaster shot packed about as much punch as a kick by a horse, but sometimes, that just wasn’t enough. Waiting a few seconds until the control lights told her the next shot would be able to topple a brick wall, she carefully aimed for one of the branches that the two men were fighting underneath. 

The shot itself was soundless, but when the small energy projectile impacted in the tree, it sounded like a thunderclap. Bits of burning bark and scorched foliage flew in all directions, and with a heavy groan and the ugly sound of splintering wood, the heavy branch crashed to the ground. It was only by sheer luck that both men were alert enough to jump out of the way, momentarily hindered in their duel, but still staring at each other.

”Stop it or I will shoot the both of you!” 

But Rose’s shouted order didn’t change anything, only now both men were snarling at each other, their faces promising bloody murder. Rose could hardly believe her eyes. 

“What the fuck do you two think you’re doing here?!!”

“We will settle this once and for all!” Karl replied without looking at her, his eyes still locked on Eric. 

“No!” Lady Ornella suddenly wailed right next to Rose. “I can not watch my sons kill each other!”

“Mother!” Eric snapped, for the first time looking away from Karl. “Stay out of this!”

Much to Roses surprise, Lady Ornella actually did as she was told. 

Now finally managing to piece the information together, Lenny stared at the woman by his side in unabashed confusion. 

“Mum…?”

His look was mirrored almost comically identical in Lady Ornella’s face. 

“Leonardo!” Eric shouted across the square at his little brother. “You shouldn’t be here!”

“Leonardo?” Catching up, Lady Ornella now stared at her youngest son with unveiled shock and disgust. “You named it after your grandfather?”

“IT?!” Eric’s question was a warning growl, but his mother didn’t seem to notice. 

“This… abomination…?”

Suddenly completely ignoring Karl, Eric stalked towards Lady Ornella with heavy, threatening steps. 

“How DARE you call your own flesh and blood an abomination when you have nurtured that wretched Dracon spawn at your breast?!” he shouted at her, loud enough to have his voice echo back from the outer palace wall, pointing his sword accusingly at Karl. 

“I… I…” was all that Lady Ornella managed to stammer, while all other just witnessed their exchange speechlessly.

“Leonardo is your son!” Eric thundered, standing over Lady Ornella, glaring down at her with an intensity that easily matched her own stare, the sword in his hand almost forgotten. “AND YOU WILL LOVE HIM!”

For a heartbeat, the whole hexant was silent, only a pair of startled birds noisily took flight, disappearing into the morning mist.

Looking first at Lenny, then back at Eric, Lady Ornella nodded. 

“Yes, Enrique.” she replied, her voice choked, her expression clearly showing how overwhelmed she was. 

Unfortunately, her adopted son didn’t feel overwhelmed at all. 

“This is not over!!” Karl shouted at Eric, raising his sword. 

Whirling around, Eric returned into his fighting stance once more, ready to see this finished once and for all. 

But before Eric could do anything even more fundamentally stupid, Rose rushed across the square and placed herself right between the two combatants. Still wearing her full ceramsteel armor, she knew she pretty much outmatched both of them right now. How in all the Empire could she have ended up with two such idiots at the same time? 

“I’m not a trophy for you to fight over!” she declared firmly, trying to stare down both of them at the same time. “This is my life and I decide who I will spend it with!”

“Rose…” Lady Ornella made another attempt from the sidelines. “You can not…”

But right now, neither of them cared. Both Eric and Karl had only eyes for Rose standing between them, petite and determined and absolutely indomitable. To Rose, it was the longest moment in her life. 

In the end, it was Karl who reacted first. 

Lowering his sword, he nodded, a defeated look on his face. 

“Then do decide.”

As easy as that, he had handed the problem back to Rose, who instantly felt all courage rush out of her. Sneaking around at night, no problem. Fighting two grown men at the same time? Child’s play. But deciding in matters of the heart? Close to impossible. 

But she knew that she would have to make a decision, and that she had to make it here and now. If nothing else, both Karl and Eric deserved her honesty. And that meant she would have to pick one. 

Even though Rose knew she managed to remain calm outwardly, her thoughts were running in circles. She loved Eric, but she would shame her whole family if she rejected her betrothal with Karl. And Karl hadn’t deserved this. But neither had Eric, who hadn’t done any wrong but having been born into the wrong family. 

Nothing her House had taught her could help her with this. And how could it have? Something like this never happened to the calm Gray Lords of House van der Meer. And apart from everything else, neither Karl nor Eric would respect a decision she made on behalf of her House. They would respect her decision, and no one else’s. 

So how should she decide? 

Love affairs like this didn’t happen in real life. If they did, they only happened to the nobles in the holonovelas, to the people of ‘Even Nobles Cry’. And there was only one decision those people had ever made. 

“If it is really my decision, I have to follow my heart,” Rose heard herself say with much more conviction than she thought she had. “And my heart belongs to Eric.”

Eric merely blinked, while Karl gave a deep sigh and inclined his head politely. 

“Then I will respect your decision,” he said evenly. Turning around, he gathered his jacket and remaining equipment, leaving the park without even looking back. 

Silently, Rose thanked him from the bottom of her heart. Karl hadn’t deserved this, and he had shown more greatness in this moment than any other noble Rose knew. But it was true, her heart belonged to Eric, there was no way around that. She had no idea how they would sort this out, how they would be able to forge a life for each of them out of the chaos they had created, but she knew that now, there was at least a chance. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Lenny gently leading a completely overwhelmed Lady Ornella away. For a moment, she wondered if she should talk to her, but then her lover’s voice brought her back to the important things. 

“Rose…?” she heard his voice right behind her. 

Turning around, she smacked her armored fist against his broad chest, not too gently at that. 

“You giant fool of a man!” she exclaimed. 

She was just taking a deep breath to continue, but any further recriminations were cut short as he swept her from her feet and kissed her so passionately that she forgot all around her.


	22. Chapter 22

The weather on P2 was true to form: an insistent, annoying drizzle with unpredictable gushes of wind. 

None of the people inside the Aroona chapel of the Imperial Palace cared, though, as the large main chamber was filled with warm golden light from countless candles and the huge chandeliers the Consort had donated for the occasion. 

It was a small gathering, but the people present were all as cheerful as they should be for something as awesome as wedding, Ashleigh mused.

She was standing on the dais in front of the altar, wearing her gala Malachite armour, which - she had to admit - looked absolutely stunning on her. 

Much better than on Li Ma at least, who was standing next to her, looking nervous and ashamed in the form hugging outfit. But then, her fellow Malachite Guard captain almost always looked nervous and ashamed unless she was wielding some weapon in training and obliterating all opposition.

At least she was smiling, as she should be. After all, Rose was even more nervous than she was and she had every right to be, considering she would soon get married to one of the most awesome studs Ashleigh had ever laid eyes on.

With a wistful sigh, she ogled Rose’s husband-to-be some more. He looked simply smashing. For a moment, she allowed herself the hopeless daydream that he would accept an invitation from her to hop into some storage room for a quick blowjob and fuck to take the edge off before he wed Rose. Damn, how she would LOVE to feel those huge, powerful hands grab her hair and hips. She could almost feel him slam into her.

But of course that really was just wishful thinking. He was Andragor, after all, and shamefully faithful.

To distract herself from the insistent throb between her thighs Ashleigh turned to Mother Sophia, who would perform the actual ceremony.

“Isn’t it AWESOME?!” she exclaimed in pure exuberance at the occasion, the people and in a need to express her happiness.

Mother Sophia smiled at her benignly and adjusted her glasses on her nose. “Absolutely. Weddings for love are my favourite occasions.” She agreed.

Ashleigh nodded vigorously. “Mine too!” She had been to a few weddings already, mostly to political ones, and those sucked. But the few commoner weddings she had sneaked in on which had been the genuine deal had been so wonderfully sweet and happy and awesome she could agree with Mother Sophia whole heartedly.

Shifting back and forth on her high heels she tried to come up with a kind of rhythm with the clicking of her heels. Li Ma glanced at her disapprovingly and Ashleigh grinned back at her. 

The chapel was slowly filling with the last guests arriving, and Ashleigh wondered what was taking Rose so bloody long. Granted, putting on a wedding dress wasn’t the easiest of feats and she had offered to help. But she hadn’t been admitted to the room where Rose was preparing. But still, just standing here made her feel like bees were buzzing inside her belly. The thought made her smile and the started clicking her fingernails against her belly to see if that would help.

Mother Sophia waved to some newly arrived guests and then turned back to her. “Nervous, dear?”

“Huh?” Ashleigh grinned. “Me? No way!”

Of course she was bloody nervous. After all she did want to be a perfect bride’s maid.

“You do seem nervous.” Mother Sophia stated with a kind smile, making Ashleigh blush.

“Uh… well… a little maybe…” she admitted. And there was another thing bothering her. She carefully looked around whether someone was listening in on their conversation but everyone seemed to be busy. “How likely is it there will be trouble?”

Mother Sophia looked entirely unconcerned. “Very unlikely. 

“Really? You think?” Ashleigh wasn’t convinced. Maybe Mother Sophia simply wasn’t aware of all the facts. “After all Rose was marrying her slave and that is like THE major no no isn’t it?

“Is she?” Mother Sophia blinked at her in surprise. “I thought she was marrying the son of Lady Ornella.”

“She is?” Ashleigh blinked back at her with much the same expression and then at Rose’s hulking slave standing right there, quite obviously the groom. “Uh… but that IS Eric, yeah?” she asked. One could never be entirely sure of such matters.

“Yes, that is Eric Dracon, the elder brother of the Duke of Del’Morad.” Mother Sophia explained patiently. “Lady Ornella adopted him last week.” 

“She did?” Ashleigh looked over to where Lady Ornella was sitting in the front row. Then she suddenly remembered what Leesha had told her. “Oh! Oh, I get it! Because she is his mum and everything, right?!”

Mother Sophia nodded. “Exactly. And as the Concord of P2 only gave Rose’s hand to the eldest son of Duke Anklam, all is well.” She completed her explanation. “And I severely doubt that anyone will dare raise the question of genetics with Lady Ornella.”

None of those legal details made much sense to Ashleigh. It wasn’t like she had ever read a single line of that blasted treaty, after all. “I don’t really get all that legal hubbub anyway.” She admitted. “As long as there is a party or a brawl I’ll be perfectly fine.”

Mother Sophia grinned. “I think then you’ll be fine, dear.” She said, patting Ashleigh’s arm in a grandmotherly fashion. “There’ll be plenty of party coming up tonight.” 

-

Walking through the milling guests of the wedding, Lenny searched for his name tag on the seats. He would have preferred to remain invisible, just a member of the church, but Eric had insisted he’d be seated with the family of the groom. Which meant, he was seated somewhere pretty much in the front, where everyone would be looking at him. 

It didn’t take him long to spot Archduchess Ornella in the front row. With her dark hair in a severe knot, the high collar and her stick-straight posture, she was hard to overlook. 

She was a beautiful woman, even at her age, and Lenny was proud to know that she was his mother. But he had also seen the horror in her face when she had learned that he was alive, and that Eric had raised him. He couldn’t really blame her for it, after all, she had been raped and nearly died while giving birth to him. But it had still hurt. 

Checking the front row, Lenny realized that he had been seated right next to the Archduchess. Of course. But even as inconspicuously as he had been trying to look, Lady Ornella had already noticed him, her bright green eyes staring holes into his head. 

“Oh… I’m sorry,” he said reflexively, already bowing and walking backwards as if he were still a slave. “Your Highness, I will find a seat further back.”

“Stay.“

Her words pierced the babble of the other guests effortlessly, and yet Lenny really hoped he could avoid her attention. 

“I really don’t want to be a bother…”

Instead of an answer, Lady Ornella patted the seat next to her with a gesture that allowed no discussion. He really should do as she told him, but he felt so terribly uncomfortable next to her. 

“I see you have taken up your vows, Brother Leonardo,” she remarked, pointing at his new robe.

“I… yes…”

Instinctively, Lenny’s hand went up to where his slave collar had been all his life, rubing the sensitive skin nervously. How odd that one could miss a thing like this, he wondered. 

“Sit down.”

This time, he really didn’t see any chance to get out of this politely. So he sat down next to her. 

“I have to apologize for my words in the park the other day.” Lady Ornella said evenly. ”That was entirely uncalled for.”

“No… no, I understand.” Lenny replied. He would have preferred his mother falling over herself with joy about him, like every human being. But he could genuinely understand her. “This must be very… I mean… I don’t mean to remind you…”

His lack of words got him so worked up that he was already about to leave again. But the Archduchess put him down onto his seat again with a tiny and surprisingly strong hand on his shoulder. 

“You can’t remind me of things I’ll never forget anyway.” she explained with a tiny smile in the corner of her mouth. “But Eric loves you dearly. You are his brother, and nothing I feel will ever change that.“

Lenny looked down on his hands. “He is a wonderful brother.”

“Yes he is.” Finally, she lifted her hand off Lenny’s shoulder, but not without a little, encouraging pat. “And he raised you well.“

Lenny nodded in silent agreement. Whatever Eric’s faults, Lenny wouldn’t be alive today if it hadn’t been for him. He owed him everything. It had even been Eric who had picked his name. 

“I offered to change the name…” Lenny said softly. “When I took my vows… but he forbade it.”

“As I would have.” Lady Ornella replied with a laugh. Turning around, she looked at Lenny properly for the first time, as kindly as her coolly perfect features allowed. “I have lost so much, Leonardo, and I will not let the misdeeds of some Dracon spoil what good I have. Maybe I will need some time to be the mother you deserve, but you are my son. Never forget that.”

“I… I would be honoured…”, Lenny stammered, feeling tears welling up in his eyes. 

But Lady Ornella only gave him a grim smile. 

“Good for you.” she replied, already turning her attention to greet another guest. 

What an oddly harsh woman, Lenny wondered silently. But then again, why should she indulge in sentimentalities? She had said all the important things she had wanted to say. 

Smiling, Lenny leaned forward, whispering that only the Archduchess could overhear him: 

“Thank you, mother.”

-

Staring at herself in the mirror, Rose wondered for the hundredths time what she was doing here. 

Of course, she knew she was about to marry Eric. If nothing else, the white wedding gown she was wearing was giving it away, priceless antique damascene silk and a veil of incredibly beautiful handmade Moradi lace. Both gown and veil had been custom made for her in the best traditions of House van der Meer, unassuming and of the highest possible quality. Even Rose had to admit that she looked as close to perfect as possible. 

Only that the gown was the only thing she would be seeing of her family on her wedding day. House van der Meer had been deeply shocked and disappointed by her decision to marry her former pet, and even her parents had declined their invitations. The wedding gown had been the only gift from all of House van der Meer, and it hadn’t even come with a note. 

Tugging at a curl that stubbornly peaked out from under her veil, Rose suppressed a nervous sigh. All her life she had worked so hard to be the perfect daughter of her House, and now she was throwing all this out of the window. For the love of her life, yes, and she would do it again every time. But it still tore at her heart. 

Once again wondering if maybe she should have another glass of vodka from the bottle that Ashleigh had brought her earlier, she was interrupted by a firm knock on the door. 

“Come in!”

A gentle and even slightly proud smile on his face, the Consort himself entered the small dressing room Rose had been waiting in. Dressed in a crisp white Habichtswald Admiral’s uniform, complete with gold tresses and hat, he simultaneously looked stunningly handsome and breathtakingly inappropriate. Of course he would be wearing white on a wedding not his own. An admiral’s uniform while never even having been in the navy, and the uniform of an extinct House at that, perfectly aware the display of any and all insignia of House Habichtswald was still a crime punishable by death. August Outrageousness, indeed. 

In a way, seeing him dressed like that was an unspeakable relief to Rose. At least, she wasn’t the one breaking the most taboos in the room. 

“Captain? All set?”

Taking a deep breath, Rose forced a smile onto her face. She really wanted this to be perfect, wanted herself to be perfect. But she felt like crap, and if there was one person she couldn’t and wouldn’t lie to, it was the Consort. 

“No.” she replied flatly, her forced smile crumbling under the weight of her misery. 

But Prince Amadeus merely smiled indulgently. He walked over to her until he stood right behind her, and took a moment to expertly adjust a crease of her gown. 

“I beg to differ, you look stunning, my dear.”

Looking at him across the mirror, Rose noted for the first time in her life how huge her eyes looked when she was insecure. 

“What am I doing here, your Highness?“

“The right thing.”

“Really?” The Consort sounded so absolutely convinced that it was hard not to believe him. But how could she be doing the right thing when it disappointed so many people?! “I have broken the heart of one of the most powerful Dukes of the Empire! The closest friend of my commanding officer! I have bought my husband for three credits, oh god, what if I had come only five minutes later that day?”

“Then, by some miracle, the auctioneer would have suffered a heart attack and the auction wouldn’t have concluded until you got there in the nick of time.” Still absolutely calm, he grinned at Rose. “Some things are meant to be, dear.”

“So I was meant to break Karl’s heart?“

“Karl is a good kid. He will find someone else eventually. You, however, were meant to fall in love with Eric.” Gently, the Consort put his hands on Rose’s shoulders, warm and reassuring. His voice was soft and a little bit melancholic when he continued. “I know what it’s like to marry the one you shouldn’t ever have loved against everything that is expected of you. Trust me on this, you will never regret saying yes today.”

“You promise?“

“August Outrageousness word of honour.”

This made Rose laugh out loud. She had never been sure how aware the Consort was about what was said about him behind his back, but of course she shouldn’t have wondered. He knew everything that was worth knowing, and he could laugh about himself like nobody Rose had ever known. He was the most exhausting, fascinating, perfect liege she could ever have asked for. 

When her family had uniformly declined the invitations to Rose’s wedding, he had simply informed her that it would be him leading her to the altar, then. No fuss, no questions, just a fatherly friend who knew what being truly in love could mean. In retrospect, she couldn’t have thought of anyone else she would have wanted in his place right now. 

“Thank you so much.” Taking another deep breath, she once more tried a smile. This time, it was real, and glowing with the anticipation she felt. “I think I am ready, your Highness.“

Taking Rose’s hand, he helped her up, careful not to disturb her dress as if he had never done anything else in his life. Setting down her hand onto his arm, he waited until Rose had found her poise – only to wink at her in the very last moment. 

“Come on then, there is a gorgeously sexy hunk waiting for you.”

-

It was a typical Del’Morad night. Snow was falling in thick sheets outside, carried by a biting wind that made it look almost as if the white mass was falling from the left to the right and not down from the sky.

Standing at the huge, thick panorama window in his private study, Karl wasn’t really looking anyway. His thoughts were as gloomy and cold as the weather. The room was nearly dark, lit only by a low burning fire in the huge fireplace.

He could remember only one other time when he had felt this intensely lonely and he found himself dwelling on that dreadful evening right after his real mother had died. When his father had come to his room to gloat over a crying boy and start teaching him how to be a man.

Strange how he now was using this horrible memory to shield himself from the bitter knowledge that Rose was getting married about now.

Even his mother was there, attending the wedding of her son. Karl still wasn’t able to wrap his mind around the fact that the hulking slave hadn’t just taken Rose from him, but also his mother. Maybe he did have an older claim on the woman who had actually born him, but that didn’t make it one bit easier for Karl to accept it. That she had adopted him and raised him from slave to noble had been inevitable. It made Ornella so very happy, like Karl had never seen her before. Try as he might, he couldn’t begrudge her that. It didn’t mean he was able to like it.

When there was suddenly the sound of footsteps behind him he didn’t turn around, almost hoping that it would be some assassin, ported into his rooms to end his misery.

Instead a voice he had not expected addressed him softly.

“Karl.” Leesha said, and then Karl felt his friend’s warm body behind him and arms slip around his waist to hug him gently.

“Hey, little rodent.” Karl greeted his friend sadly. “Don’t you have a wedding to attend?” he asked, but also leaned into the comforting embrace.

Leesha’s chin came to rest on his shoulder, his breath warm against Karl’s neck. “None that I know of.”

So there was at least one person who still preferred him to the most amazing Enrique Andragor.

“Thanks.” He said, infinitely grateful to have a friend like Leesha.

“Always.” Leesha kissed him softly below his ear. “Come on, I’ve brought plenty of beer.” He then announced.

“Enough?” Karl asked, unable to keep a hint of amusement out of his voice. Leave it to Leesha to always find a way to cheer him up at least a tiny bit.

He was turned around and pointed at several crates of beer, which had appeared next to the huge leather couch in front of the fireplace.

“I hope so.” Leesha said with a small smile.

Karl found himself chuckling despite everything. “That might be sufficient.”


	23. Extras

\- For everyone who was worried about how Wes was coping with Karl's sudden appearance at Leesha's office, here is what happened right afterwards -

 

After Karl had left and Leesha had taken a moment to sort his thoughts, he left his office in search of his murderous courtesan. If Karl had considered Wes' presence in Leesha antechamber disconcerting he could well imagine how Wesley would have reacted to suddenly seeing the son of his former master walk in. Leesha doubted that it would scare him but he didn't think it impossible that Wesley would be silently plotting Karl's permanent removal, if he perceived the new Duke of Del'Morad as a threat.

That was certainly not a scenario Leesha favoured.

Wes was his cool, calm and impeccable self, studying something on the screen of his desktop, but he looked up and raised a surprised eyebrow at seeing his master leave his office. Leesha walked over to him and casually leaned against his slave's desk.

Perfectly attentive and polite Wesley smiled up at him. "Yes, Master?"

"Are you all right?" Leesha asked, knowing that a direct question would make it harder for Wesley to avoid a direct answer.

Like he had expected Wesley opened his mouth with just a hint of annoyance creasing his brow at the fact that his master might have noticed some chink in his armour of professionalism. Then he closed it again and studied Leesha for a moment. There was no hint of it on his face but Leesha was sure that his courtesan was reminding himself of Leesha's orders to be genuine and show his emotions. He was quite proud of how well Wesley was managing lately.

When Wesley finally spoke he still sounded calm. "I am a little irritated that I missed your connection to Duke Karl."

From anyone else Leesha would have considered that a grave understatement, but from Wes it might actually be pretty accurate. Or it might be Wesley trying to make sure his master didn't worry about it. "It must have been quite spooky for him to suddenly walk in on you." Leesha prodded gently.

Wesley rolled his eyes in a gesture so human and natural it looked odd on him. "That was not an experience I'd like to repeat." He said honesty.

Leesha smiled. "Well, I can't guarantee that he won't walk in here again." He answered truthfully. He very much hoped Karl would come visit him more often.

"I wouldn't be surprised by him any longer." Wesley replied, now smiling as well. "Though I sincerely hope that you do not have more awkward surprises of similar kind in store for me."

"None connected to the late Duke of Del'Morad." Of course there were quite a number of interesting people who might suddenly drop in on him, but Leesha was fairly sure none of them had any connection to Wesley personally. He swiped a cookie from the tray Wesley kept on his desk for guest who had to wait. "I take it you have familiarized yourself with my 'connection' to Karl by now?" He fully expected his diligent courtesan to have run a full background check on any possible connection between him and Karl while he had been talking to his old friend.

"At least with what's available to me." Wesley answered, clearly dissatisfied with the lack of details their records from Kalidor held on how close they had become. For a moment he eyed his master with a strange expression. "Why did you buy me?" He then asked.

Of course he would want to know that now that he knew about Karl, Leesha thought. "For several reasons," Leesha answered, ticking them off on his fingers, "you are incredibly capable and your skill and education had been wasted so far, you are very sexy, you have killed a man who has tormented my best friend and came damn close to destroying him." He smiled at Wesley and gently caressed his cheek with his thumb. "And I really liked you," he then added, "I had a feeling we would be good together."

Wesley smile was small, slightly insecure, presented with so much honestly, and for once, utterly genuine. He nodded, and then rubbed his cheek against Leesha's hand like a cat, gratefully. "So the Duke is your best friend?" he then asked.

"Yes, he is." Leesha said.

Wes looked like he was processing that information for a while. "I will adjust my lists accordingly." He then stated.

Leesha chuckled. Of course a courtesan would be keeping carefully sorted lists of people in his mind to decide who would receive what treatment. "Well, I just wanted to assure you that you have nothing to fear from Karl." He explained his visit to Wes' desk.

Wesley's smile turned oddly uncomfortable and mixed with a slight frown. "I know…" he grumbled.

Leesha didn't even have to ask aloud. He just looked at Wesley questioningly.

Wesley stared back at him, obviously hoping his master would stop prodding. Finally he gave up, his face twitching with some unnamed emotion. He hesitated a moment longer and when he answered there was just a hint of anger in his voice. "I trust you." 

Leesha managed not to laugh, he knew his amusement was visible on his face by the frown creasing his courtesan's brow. Of course Wes would consider it entirely inappropriate for a slave to trust a master, even more so for a trained courtesan. And even more inappropriate to admit to that trust. He still felt flattered and grateful for it so he leaned forward and kissed his grumpy slave. "Thank you."

That Wes shed all professional and grumbled something unintelligibly in return made plain adorable.

\---

\- 2 -

\- Ridiculous nonsense -

 

It’s a perfectly normal meeting of officers of the Malachite Guard. Major Leesha Dracon is all calm and friendly, Captain Rose van der Meer is all professional and business, Captain Li Ma Jehanni is all shy and correct, Captain Ashleigh Dracon is late.

They have pretty much talked about all the things that needed discussing. Training results, schedules, horrific episodes endured in the Consort’s company.

Now they are just waiting for Ashleigh to arrive so they can listen to one of her outrageous excuses, hand her her orders and carry on with their work.

The door opens an in waltzes Ashleigh, resplendent in her Malachite armour, her luscious red hair cascading down her back.

“You won’t believe what I have just dreamt!” she exclaims, blatantly ignoring the accusing glares of her colleagues. 

They are all very sure that they don’t want to know but she is oblivious to this tiny detail.

“I just dreamt I had the most amazing sex with Grinny Pig!”

She is answered with various shades of appalled silence. Of course she doesn’t notice.

“It was really quite disgusting and he was grunting… well… grunting like a pig!” she laughs loudly at her own joke while the other look at her with unveiled horror.

“But the things he can do with his snout are just…”

BLAM!!

Ashleigh collapses.

Major Leesha calmly returns his blaster back to its holster.

“Oh my god, you SHOT HER!” Captain Li Ma exclaims and then clasps her hand over her mouth, realizing she has spoken out of turn.

Leesha waves his hand in a reassuring gesture. “Just with the stun beam.”

Rose nudges the limb body with her foot. “Are you sure she will be all right?”

Leesha nods. “We are talking about the girl who tried to drown herself in a champaign fountain during the Consort’s birthday party when she was seven.” He says.

“How can you drown yourself in a champaign fountain?” Li Ma whispers.

“Oh, not one of those small things.” Leesha explains amiably. “No, we are talking about the Consort’s champaign fountain. It has four naked golden angels around a huge basin and they are spewing the champaign into the basin from their cocks.”

Li Ma’s eyes grow impossibly wide as her poor mind tries to reject that image and fails to succeed. She draws her blaster, blasts herself with the stun beam and collapses.

Rose prods her with her foot, then looks at Leesha.

“So… Commander… are you going to say something that will cause me to shoot myself too or does this conclude the meeting?” she asks with dry sarcasm.

“We could talk about your two lovers…” Leesha begins.

Rose draws her blaster and stuns him. Leesha collapses.

Rose sighs deeply and leaves the meeting room.


End file.
